Imitation
by the morrighan
Summary: Ignoring the smallest things can bring dire results.
1. Chapter 1

Imitation

Silver.

The color was bright on the computer screen. Lines of collated data strung together, highlighting the similarities. Differences marked in gold. Another, smaller window was a microcosm of planetary data. Tiny colored points aligning each planet, marking a course. The lights danced, the colors merged. The data flowed into a nonsensical melange of information.

Moira Sheppard blinked. Blinked again and sighed. She sat back from the computer. Rubbed her eyes. Unable to concentrate as weariness seized her. Clawed at her body, encouraging, enforcing the need for rest upon her. Stubbornly she resisted, but as she eyed the data it didn't make sense. She couldn't find the connections. Her mind refusing to cooperate.

She scowled, stood. Reluctantly accepting defeat she trudged to her bed. Reclined upon it, curling on her side. Feeling angry at having to take yet another nap. Interrupt yet another round of research, of projects, of work. Then she felt guilty, blaming the child she carried inside her for causing such disruption. Blaming John for impregnating her in the first place. She sighed. Wished John was with her now. Was almost tempted to page him but relented. Closed her eyes and clutched the pillow, succumbing to the need for rest, relaxation.

* * *

John Sheppard stood, arms folded across his chest. At his nod the Stargate was dialed. The chevrons lit one by one. Blue light dancing along the enormous stone circle. He watched the KAWOOSH as the event horizon exploded outwards, then fell back to a shimmering circle. He glanced at the woman approaching briskly. Almost eagerly. The bounce in her steps. The TAC vest odd over her red shirt. Short dark curls springing with each motion. "Are you sure you want to do this, Elizabeth?" he asked with a smile.

Elizabeth Weir met his gaze with an admonishing scowl. Then she smiled. "Yes. This is what I have been trained for, John. And according to Teyla these people love nothing more than to negotiate for hours and hours."

"They'll never know what hit them, then," he jested.

Elizabeth laughed. "Exactly! And if I can broker a successful trading agreement we will not only have secured another food source but another ally. I suppose you are going to insist on a full marine squad?"

"Of course. You think I'd let you girls go off on your own?" he jested, but became serious. "Since Lorne is off-world I have to stay in the city."

Elizabeth smiled. "And that just gets under your skin, doesn't it? I bet you would like nothing more than to be going out there, on some mission."

John shrugged. "Yeah, you know me well, but duty calls and it says to stay here," he stated, although he wanted nothing more than to stay in the city right now. To be with Moira. "So I'm having Whitaker's team escort you. Good luck."

"Thanks. Keep things quiet here," she said with a smile. Headed down to the 'Gate room where Teyla Emmagan and the squad of marines awaited her.

John smiled. Watched them leave. He turned back to the technician. "Close the Iris. We should be hearing back from Major Lorne within the hour. Have me paged."

John entered his room, crossed the empty threshold into the one he shared with his wife. Smiled. Moira was curled on their bed, asleep. He walked over slowly, gaze roving over her loose hair. Her curves. Her rear. Her bent knees. The dark green turtleneck had ridden up a little, giving him a glimpse of bare skin above her brown pants. He got onto the bed, spooned against her. Rubbing his crotch along her rear. "Hey, baby," he said into her ear. Kissed down her throat. "Moira."

She stirred, shifted. Smiled, feeling his solidity pressed against her. She pulled his arm over her like a blanket. "John," she muttered.

He kissed her cheek. Slid back, down. Moved her shirt up and kissed along her back. Lower. Lower until she murmured. Shifted. Woke.

"John?"

He gently laughed, slid up and spooned against her again. Fingers slipping up to her breasts. "Time for lunch, sweetheart, unless you'd rather skip straight ahead to dessert. May I recommend the incomparable Sheppard's delight?"

She laughed, shoved playfully into him, cuddling. "John. Lunch sounds good. I don't quite need dessert yet, sweetie."

"Ah. Well, page me when you do." He kissed her cheek. "Lorne's team is due to radio in soon. I figured you'd want to greet their return."

She smiled. Rolled onto her back. "Yes. Thank you, colonel." She touched his jaw. His black shirt. Tugged playfully at the zipper. "John. I...I really don't like this."

"Don't like what, Moira?" he asked, shifting to keep his weight off her. He stroked her hair.

"I...I don't like being so, so tired all the damn time. I mean, I mean it's interfering with my work. I can't concentrate. The answers are right in front of me but I can't see them because I get so damn tired and then hungry and then horny and I can't work like this, John!"

He smiled. Kissed her. A gentle, lingering kiss. "You'll be fine, baby. Just go with the flow. Tired? Take a nap. Hungry? Eat. Horny? Page me immediately. I'm serious, Moy."

She smiled. Met his gaze. "Oh, I know, colonel. You are always serious about that." She kissed him. Pushed. "Scoot!" She sat. "Give me five." She moved to the bathroom.

John waited, glancing round the room. He moved to his feet. To the table. Curious, he eyed the computer. Moved the mouse to display the screens. "Moira! Are you working on all five projects again? I told you that was too many!"

"Can't be helped, John," she called from the bathroom.

"Yes, it can, Moira!" He sighed. Smiled. "Hey, baby, I checked. There is a new, fresh batch of caramel fudge. Plenty for Sheppard's delight."

She laughed. Emerged. Hair trapped in a ponytail. "Hilarious, John. Let's go. I'm hungry!"

"As ordered, Moy."

* * *

Moira swallowed, frowned. "Stop that!" she scolded, as John was staring intently at her.

"Stop what?" he asked, finishing his own sandwich as she finished hers.

"Stop staring at me! Like you are counting every bite I take!"

"I just want to be sure you are eating, that's all," he countered. Shrugged. "How do you feel, Moira? I mean, are you okay? I mean," he added to her growing ire, "apart from the usual stuff are you okay? Do you need to see Carson? I mean, are you sure you are–"

"John! You will need to see Carson if you don't stop it! I'm fine, okay! Apparently all of this crap is normal." She sighed. "Don't you worry about me, sweetie, I'm fine."

John frowned. "Are you? I mean...you...well, what I mean is you should be...well, shouldn't you be..."

"What? What should I be, John?" she asked, anger flaring. His awkward concern only making her grumpier.

"Incoming wormhole, Colonel Sheppard. Major Lorne's IDC received."

He breathed a sigh of relief at the summons. Stood. "Let's go, Moira." He tapped his earpiece as he led her to the control room. "Open the Iris. On my way."

Moira followed on his heels. "Well?" she persisted, to his regret. "What did you mean? What should I be, John? John? John, what should I–"

"Be? Quiet at the moment, okay, so I can do my job," he retorted as they reached their destination. "Major Lorne, copy?" he asked, staring at the shimmering wormhole.

"Atlantis, copy?" Evan Lorne's voice was crackling, but then cleared. "Colonel Sheppard, you won't believe what we've found out here!"

What? A working ZPM? Ancient tech?" John hoped.

"No, sir. A queen."

John glanced at Moira. "A queen what, major?"

"A queen Wraith, sir. Well, a female Wraith. We don't know if it's a queen or not. Dead, sir. As in hundreds of years dead judging by the tissue decomposition. In the ruins of the buildings. Also pieces of broken tech that isn't Ancient or Wraith. Like nothing we've encountered, sir."

"Ah."

Moira leaned over the console. "Evan? Are you sure it's a female? Adult?"

"Are you sure it's dead?" John asked, gently moving her back from the console. Shaking his head. He could already guess what she wanted.

"Moira? Yes, a female. And yes, sir. We shot it to be sure. More than once. Permission to bring it to–"

"Yes! Yes, you need to–" Moira began.

"Negative, major," John stated.

"John! We need to study this! Carson and I! This is unprecedented!" Moira urged. "We've never recovered the body of a female before! A Wraith female, John! The scientific knowledge alone is worth any–"

"I said no. Moira, it's too dangerous."

"It's dead, John! How dangerous could it be?"

"Remember zombie night? No."

"But your new, stricter protocols are–"

"No. Major, take it to the Alpha site."

"Yes, sir. Acknowledged."

"No! John, I can't go to the Alpha site!" Moira complained, catching his arm. "Remember?"

He met her gaze. "I know. And you're not going anywhere near that thing in either case. Major, transport the cargo to the Alpha site. Secure it. And the unknown alien tech. I'll meet you there with Beckett and some reinforcements. Sheppard out. Shut it down."

"John! You–" Moira protested.

John ignored her. Tapped his earpiece. "Beckett, copy? Get your gear and kit. We've got a Wraith female corpse for you to study." He cut off the doctor's astonished chatter. "Reynolds, copy? Assemble your team and meet me in the 'Gate room ASAP." He looked at Moira. "I'm not taking any chances, Moira. None. You can vid link with Carson, all right? Stay here. I've got to get my gear and I'll get Rodney to hook you up."

"John! No! It's not the same! You have to–" But he was gone, striding purposefully away from her. She sighed, swore. Stood at the console, waiting.


	2. Chapter 2

Imitation2

Carson Beckett was in a hurry. Walking quickly, carrying two kits of medical equipment, testing supplies, and a data pad to record it all. "Colonel, colonel, I know that!" he reiterated to John's back as he followed the other man through the city, "but I really need her expertise on this! This is unprecedented! We've never had a female specimen to fully examine and I need–"

"Blah blah blah, I know!" John snapped, heading into the control room, Carson on his heels. John adjusted the P90 in his hands, the TAC vest adorning his torso. "We'll take this!" He snatched a laptop and shoved into the doctor's already full hands. "You can set up a vid link to confer with her, but she stays here! Rodney, set it up! That damn thing stays on Alpha!"

"And what am I to do with the samples? Tissue specimens and–" Carson persisted.

"You can send them through the 'Gate under the strictest protocols. Once they are determined to be completely safe Moira can study them under the strictest of controls." His voice softened as he reached her. "You'll be linked through there," he pointed to a console where Rodney was working, " once we reach the site. Rodney will open the wormhole to Alpha for communication. Two-way communication through the laptops."

Moira frowned. "Fine. I still don't see why you can't bring it here, John. Your new safety protocols and the newly designed Wraith lab are more than adequate to–"

"No, they are not good enough for a possibly dead possibly Wraith queen. No way am I letting that into this city. Or near you." He touched her arm. "I'll be back ASAP, once I determine this thing is truly dead and no one is any danger." He gestured, walked towards the 'Gate room where Jason Reynolds and his team waited. Carson scurried ahead of him. John turned back to her, smiled. "Oh. Don't you worry, sweetheart. I'll be back in plenty of time for Sheppard's delight."

She scowled. "Hilarious, John. Be careful."

"Back ASAP, Moira. Hold the fort." He turned away, herded Carson down the stairs. "Dial it up, Rodney, and set up that–"

"Yes, yes, got it!" Rodney grumbled. "Just don't forget that alien tech!"

"The what?" John teased.

"Colonel, what is Sheppard's delight, if you don't mind me asking?" Carson questioned.

John grinned. "It is what it is. Let's head out! Reynolds, take point."

Moira sighed, watched the men disappear into the event horizon. She moved to Rodney as he opened the laptop. Connected wires to the console, booting up the system. "Will this work?"

"Of course it will work! Once Carson sets up his end, that is."

* * *

"Sir!" Evan greeted his commanding officer and nodded at the men with him. At Carson who was eagerly trying to move past them. "Kavanaugh is gathering the alien tech for McKay. We've got the cargo in the tent and ready for Carson."

"Good. We need this vid link set up for Moira. Carson, go on." As the doctor hastened ahead of them John turned. "Reynolds, perimeter sweep, just to be sure. So, intel?" he asked, walking towards the makeshift shelter.

"We uncovered it at the ruins. Quite old. It has several blast injuries which could be the COD. Plus our own, sir."

"And the odds and ends?"

"Broken tech. Alien, sir, like you suggested. Not Ancient, nor Wraith. Not Earth either. Even Kavanaugh couldn't identify it or even guess at what it once was or did. I'm sure McKay will have a field day, sir."

"Good. We'll take that back with us. Lieutenant?"

Aaron Josephes had stepped out of the shelter. "Sir. Cargo is unloaded. Strapped to a gurney. Just in, just in case." He nervously glanced round.

"Lead on, lieutenant." They entered the shelter. John tapped his earpiece. "Reynolds, position two men on perimeter watch. You and Jenkins come here. I want a round the clock watch on this thing. If it moves a millimeter shoot it. Evacuate immediately."

"I hardly think it will move at all," Carson noted, shaking his head. "It's dead, John."

"We've been down this road before, doc, remember?" He circled round. "Kavanaugh, set up that vid link. Anything else on that planet? Energy readings?"

"No, sir. None," Evan answered.

"It was...well..." Aaron hesitated.

"Go on, lieutenant," John encouraged.

The younger man swallowed. "It was, it was odd, sir. Too quiet. Not a dead world, but unpopulated. Quiet. Too quiet. No sounds. No birds or insects. Moira, I mean, Doctor O'Meara, I mean Doctor Sheppard," he blundered, blushing, "always made note of that stuff. I mean she told us to always take careful note of such things," he stammered.

John smiled. "Moira will be fine, lieutenant. And yes, she would. There were no villages?"

"Ruins of one, sir. It appeared to have been abandoned for quite some time," Evan answered, taking his amused gaze off his subordinate. "Very primitive, even for this galaxy."

"Good lord!" Carson exclaimed. John whirled, gun raised but the doctor was perfectly safe. Unzipping the body bag. He opened it to reveal the gruesome corpse. "Doctor Kavanaugh, is that vid link established yet?"

"Yes. The 'Gate is still active so it's live."

John neared, gun still raised. The body was inert. A Wraith. Female. Clad in decayed, thread worn clothing of an indeterminate color, design. Long red hair tangled. Bluish skin revealed curious tattoos on the desiccated skin, stretched thinly over the cadaverous face. Open mouth full of long, jagged teeth. Lips pulled back in a grimace. A horrid smile. Yellow eyes staring up, open. Sightless. "Looks more like a keeper than a queen," he muttered.

"Who knows?" Carson shrugged. "The important thing is it is a female! A female! Think of the implications, John! The rarity of this specimen! I'll need to thoroughly examine it. Take samples. A full scan."

"Okay, just be careful. You're sure it's not hibernating?"

"Yes, colonel. It's quite, quite dead."

John stared at it, gun still poised. He stepped back as Carson wheeled the gurney closer to the vid link. Positioned it and tapped the button. "All right. I'll give you two hours. Then come back to Atlantis. Reynolds, my orders are clear."

"Yes, sir," Jason agreed, gaze glued to the monster on the table.

"Two hours? John, that is hardly enough time to complete a full examination much less an autopsy or–"

"Two hours, Carson. You can return later. Lorne, bring your team. We need to get that alien tech to Rodney. Reynolds, radio if anything goes south."

"Yes, sir."

"Let's move out." John looked again at the corpse, suppressing a shudder. He led the men.

* * *

"Colonel Sheppard's IDC received!"

"Lowering the Iris," Rodney replied. "Vid link should be established in five."

"Thank you, Rodney," Moira replied. She lifted her gaze to the Stargate to see John and Evan's team returning. She watched her husband as he gave orders, gesturing. So confident, so practiced. So handsome even in his plain BDUs. The double thigh straps particularly sexy as she stared at him. Eyes roving along his pants, up to his shirt. The TAC vest. Strong arms concealed by long black sleeves. Up to his handsome face, expression serious. She noticed his sudden gaze on her, looked away as he knowingly smiled.

"Moira, copy?"

She eyed the screen, shifting on her seat. "Carson? Copy?"

"Yes, love. Look at this, would you?" Even the static could not conceal the doctor's excitement. Enthusiasm.

Moira leaned forward, staring as the body came into view. The camera panned up and down slowly.

"That's gross!" Rodney complained, peering over her shoulder. "It is dead, right?"

"Yes, Rodney. Oh. That's right," John teased, joining them, "you think Wraith chicks are hot."

"What? I do not! Only the one and she didn't even look like a Wraith in that simulation on the Aurora! She looked like oh ha ha!" he fumed, embarrassed.

"Kavanaugh's got some broken alien tech. It might be the same as the stuff we found."

"Really? Maybe it will go with what I've already pieced together!" Rodney sprang from his seat, headed for Thomas, already talking fast.

"Carson, how old?" Moira asked as John moved to stand behind her. He looked over her shoulder as he touched her back. Fingers caressing.

"Decades, at least. Judging by the decomposition of the tissue," Carson answered.

"Hibernation?"

"Not more than a month. Blasts were organ penetrating."

"Regeneration?"

"Some. Not enough. Fatal."

"Enzyme sack?"

"Not yet. Odd."

"Shorthand again?" John complained. "I hate that." He whispered in her ear, "So, sweetheart...is it time for Sheppard's delight? I saw you ogling me, baby."

She smiled. "Shut up, John, I'm working. Carson, sucker?"

"That's not a very nice thing to say, Moy," he teased.

She laughed. "John! Oh!" She stared as the hand was displayed. "Wow. It's much more pronounced."

"Yes, I'll say it is," John persisted.

"John, I'm trying to work here," she scolded, but snorted with amusement. She sat back suddenly. "So it's not an ATA one, thank goodness! Carson, pan back on the, on the face."

"Of course, love."

"Moy? What is it?" John asked, hearing the change in her tone. He stepped closer. Feeling her anxiety.

Moira was silent, staring at the face. The grimace. The markings on the cheeks. The staring eyes. Memories crashed. Of the captivity. The breeding program. The intention of harvesting the ATA gene by breeding ATA gene carriers. By breeding her to a number of men. To Evan, but they had resisted. Were controlled, returned to Atlantis. Tormented by disjointed memories. To return with John. The only one she would willingly mate with. The harvest. She felt a shiver, a shudder. Recalling the harvest had succeeded in the alternate reality where her other self had died. She hugged herself. "My God..."

"Moira?" John's arms went round her. "What is it? Do you recognize it?"

"No...no..it's..." She closed her eyes. "It's not the, not the queen. It just reminded me...reminded me of it all...it...oh God...John..." She turned to him. "What have we done? What have we done? We... oh...oh..." She covered her mouth. Flew off the chair and ran out of the control room.

"Moira? Shit! Carson, we'll get back to you!" John cut the feed. "Disengage wormhole!" he ordered, sprinting out of the control room. "Moira!"


	3. Chapter 3

Imitation3

Moira ran to her room. Shoving past people, weaving along the corridors. As if she could escape the horror in her mind. She just reached the bathroom and fell to the toilet, violently retching. Not much came up as her stomach cramped. She retched and retched, fear and alarm tensing every muscle, shaking her. She paused, calming. Quickly closed, locked the door. Sat on the floor and leaned over to retch once more.

"Moira! Moira!" John shouted, swerving by startled people who quickly got out of his way. He flew into their room. Knocked on the door, hearing sounds of vomiting. Over and over. "Moira! Open the door!" He tensed, listening. Quiet. The toilet was flushed. Water was running. "Moira!"

"Give me a sec!" she weakly snapped, leaning over the sink.

"No! Open the door, damn it! Moira! Talk to me! Damn it!" He hit the door with his fist. Frustrated. Terrified that something was horribly wrong. "Moira! Are you okay? What's wrong? Is it John junior? Are you sick? Did you recognize that Wraith? Moira!"

Moira tried to calm herself. She bit her lip as the memories flooded. Tears engulfed her eyes. She clutched her abdomen, but the queasiness was passing. She rinsed her mouth. Spit. "Go away! I'm fine!"

"Like hell you are! Moira! Please, sweetheart, open the door. I need to know you are okay," John gentled his voice. He set his P90 aside. Removed his TAC vest. "Moira!"

"All right!" She swore, wiped her face. Moved to the door. Unlocked it. Opened it slowly. Stared down at his boots. "I'm fine, John. It just...it just brought back some unpleasant memories. That's all. I...I should have realized...I should have...oh John..." She felt a wave of tears, suddenly moved into his arms. Clung. "What have we done? What have we done?"

"Ssh, it's all right, Moira," he soothed, holding her close. "Never do that again, Moy. Promise me! Don't ever lock me out like that. I'll respect your privacy but don't you ever lock me out like that! Okay?"

"Okay, John," she muttered, voice muffled against his chest. Still clinging to him. "John. What did you think I was going to do?" she flared, pushing back to meet his worried gaze. She hugged him tightly again. "John! John, what have we done? We, we did exactly what that Queen wanted all along! The harvest! The harvest! Exactly what the colonel warned us about! We should have known better! We should not have fallen in love! We should not have gotten married! You, you should never, never have impregnated me! The harvest, the harvest..." she stammered, voice falling to a tremulous whisper.

John held her firmly, gently. "Ssh, Moy. It's not like that."

"It is!" She pulled back from him, eyes wet. Wild. "John! John, we shouldn't be together! We can't have a child! We can't! We can't! I can't! You were right! Everyone will want a piece of this! Everyone wants the power of the–"

"Holy Grail, I know, but we can't live our lives in fear of the unknown, of an alternate future that may or may not even happen here. Moira, we couldn't control any of this. Any of it! I'm not letting some random ATA gene dictate who I should love, who I should marry, and who I have a child with!"

"But, but we should have known! We can't do this, John!"

"No." He drew her to the bed, guided her to sit next to him. "I'll be damned if I let some fucking gene keep me from you. I love you, Moira. Not the ATA gene you happen to carry. That I carry. That our son now carries."

"But we should–"

"No." He kissed her. "Minty fresh." She briefly smiled. He kissed her again. "We will be careful, Moira, I promise. Extra careful. Extra cautious. Nothing is going to change between us. Nothing. Nothing will touch you or our son, I swear."

"But, but we–"

"No." He kissed her, drew her into his arms. "Forget all that. You are safe here with me. And I will keep you safe. You and John junior. No matter what."

She sighed. "We, we should have thought of the genetic implications, John. Especially in this galaxy. And, and why...why didn't the Ancients breed for it? Remember? You wondered that yourself, and it got me thinking...John...John...even, even Rodney wants a piece of him, of me, of the double–"

"No. No one touches you or our son, Moira," he assured. Voice low. "I promise. I don't give a damn about the gene or the Ancients. It's not an issue. Not important." He kissed her brow, recalling his nightmare suddenly. A Wraith queen. Moira leading a little boy away from him. He shook off the disturbing images. "I'm sorry you were reminded of all of that, sweetheart. But remember you killed that bitch. You saved me, and yourself. And I'll do the same to save you and our son."

"I, I shouldn't have gotten pregnant with your–" she muttered.

"No. Don't say that, Moy, don't you ever say that." He held her face to meet his gaze. "You are the best thing to ever happen to me, Moy, and this child will be the best thing to happen to us. Genes be damned. We're so much more than that. And so is he."

"I...I know that...I mean, John, I...no one can know. I mean, no one can know about, about the–"

"No one will know outside of Atlantis, Moira." He considered. Drew her against him again. "We'll have the tactical advantage but we have to be careful. Cautious. Not many people know how strong our ATA genes are compared to everyone else's. So we'll keep it that way." He frowned. "Then there's the leverage factor...our enemies." He started to drum his fingers on her thigh as he thought, thought.

"John?" she asked, worried. Calmed by his assurances. His love. His fierce protection, determination. "It, it will be all right. I think. I just had a minor meltdown, is all. I'm fine now. John?"

He was frowning in concentration. "Shit. There's a lot of complications I hadn't even considered. The Genii...even our so-called allies...even just a random run-in with hostiles. The Wraith. The colonel. But only a few know about us, about the ATA value of–"

"John, it will be fine," she stated, as their roles reversed. "Don't you worry, sweetie. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get you upset. We'll be fine." She stared at him. Touched his chest. "John?"

He sighed. Freed her to lay back suddenly. Hands over his eyes. "Shit. Maybe you are right, Moira. About the last part. Maybe I shouldn't have impregnated you. Me and my damn sperm," he muttered.

Moira had to smile. She let her gaze wander over him. Touched his chest. Ran her hand along his torso. She kissed his lips. "No, John. You are right. We can't let a random gene dictate our lives. Our love." She kissed him, savoring his lips. His mouth. Kiss after kiss along his jaw. His throat. She circled his ear. Gently bit.

"Huh?" He moved his hands off his eyes to view her. "Moy?"

She kissed him again. "Yes, John." She ran her hand down his waist. His thigh. Fingered the holster straps. "I'm coming on to you, sweetie. You are too damn sexy. And so protective of me. Of John junior. I won't give you up for anything, John. Not a damn thing." She kissed him again, fingers sliding to stroke, caress him. Cajole him.

He caught her arms, gently stopping her. "Moira? This is serious. And now you want to have sex?"

"Isn't that how we solve every crisis, sweetie?" she asked. Sighed. "I'm sorry, John. I didn't mean to place all those doubts and worries in your head. I want you to be happy again. About this pregnancy. About me." She kissed him. "I know you won't let anything happen to me or to our child. Or to yourself."

"No, I won't. I'll die before any–"

"No." She touched his lips. "Please don't say that. Please. You know it upsets me. Please."

He relented, kissing her fingers. Drew her down to kiss her. Hand sliding up to caress a breast. "Sorry, baby. God...I so need you, Moy. Need this. Need us. Need sex," he muttered as he ran his mouth along her throat. "Need our son, our passion. The gene be damned." He kissed her, his tongue gliding to tease, to taste. Hand freeing her breast to slid between her legs. Probing.

"Sweetie...oh yes, yes, John," she whispered, moving onto him. "Oh John." She kissed him. "Harder, faster, please, John, please," she said into his ear, moving in conjunction with his hand, back and forth. Back and forth. She gently moaned.

John freed her, gently moved her off him. He sat, already reacting, already tensing with arousal, need. "Fuck. Now's not the best time, Moira. I've got to make sure Reynolds and his team and Carson get back on time. Secure the facility. Leave a twenty-four hour monitor on that thing. Then check on Rodney's progress with that alien tech." He ran a hand through his hair. "Elizabeth and Teyla are due back in a few days too."

Moira ran her hand up his back. "So...no Sheppard's delight, sweetie? No caramel fudge? No fudge at all?"

"I didn't say that." He turned to see her pout, her amorous gaze. Her sorrow. "Just, um, not now. Is this some pregnancy–"

"Craving? Yes. I told you. Every afternoon, like clockwork." She sighed, laid back on the bed. Hands running over her breasts. Deliberate. "And when you weren't here...oh God, it was agony, John...needing the feel of you, the taste of you..." Her hands slowly slid over her waist. To her crotch. Legs opening slightly. "A pure agony of desire, of need...but nothing really helped, as I told you. Nothing would do...except you. Except your dexterous tongue. Your rough fingers. Your big, hard, long ordnance pulsing, pulsing inside of me."

He stared, transfixed, aroused. Watching her hands running along her body. Caressing. Moving. Arching a little. A murmur escaped her lips. "Oh fuck," he sighed. Becoming hard. "Moira, please," he muttered. Leaned down to catch her hands. Shove them away and replace them with his own as he kissed her. "I want you. But not now." He freed her with an effort, sat again.

"Okay, John. I can wait." She sighed. "I had to wait for you before so I can again. I guess." She sat. Ran her hand along his lap. Smiled. "Ooh, colonel, can you? Can Colonel Boy-toy wait for deployment?"

He smiled, moving her hands off him. "Yes, if you stop talking about it and stop handling my ordnance, baby." He stood. Adjusted his pants. Heard her gentle laugh. "It's not funny, baby!" he scolded.

"Sorry, sweetie. But it is."

Moira stood, moved to him. "Jo-hn," she half sang, causing him to smile, "I'll get the fudge for later. Sheppard's delight." She frowned. "Oh shit! I just left Carson hanging there on the vid link!" she remembered.

He laughed. "It's all right, sweetheart. He'll be here shortly. Get the fudge."

"There isn't time now! I mean, once he's here I'll have to go over all the data with him and–"

"Get the fudge," he repeated. Kissed her. "Sheppard's delight is on the menu ASAP. I can't leave you unsatisfied, now can I?"

She smiled. Kissed him. "You never have, colonel. Yet," she added saucily.

John shook his head, amused as she left. Aroused by her flirtation, her need. Somewhat calmed by their talk, but he could feel the concerns, the doubts still there. Lingering in the background. All the unasked questions, unspoken worries. He frowned.


	4. Chapter 4

Imitation4

John reclined back in the chair, fingers drumming on the table softly. "And apart from the tech and the dead thing?"

Evan shrugged, glanced at Aaron and Thomas who kept silent. "Nothing else, sir. No contact with any people. With anything but the alien tech and the dead thing. I don't think anyone has been on that world in quite some time."

"Alpha?"

"Secured for now. Reynolds and his men are on watch, per your orders, sir."

John nodded, about to speak when he caught sight of Moira lingering outside the conference room. A package of fudge in one hand. He smiled. He gestured for her to enter. "Moira." He pointed to the chair next to his. "So far Rodney hasn't put together those pieces but he is intrigued. The tech is similar to the stuff we brought back. Old. Ancient. But not Ancient."

"Clever, sir," Evan noted, rolling his eyes at Moira who smirked.

"I saw that, major. Dismissed."

"Moira," Carson said, once the other men had left the room, "how was your Sheppard's delight?"

John nearly choked. Moira blushed, dropped the fudge. "Shit! John!" She leaned over to lift the wrapped food. "I...um..." She straightened, saw John's challenging smirk. His gaze roving, resting on her breasts for a moment. "Actually, Carson, I haven't had it yet. Looks like I won't either."

"Oh you will, Moira," John stated gravely. "Repeatedly."

"It's the fudge!" she declared, seeing Carson's smirk. "The dessert! This!" She held up the food. Lowered it to the table.

"I do enjoy a good fudge," John drawled, leaving no doubt as to his true meaning.

"John! John Sheppard!" She glared at him. Eyed the men as they tried not to laugh. "You bastard!" She stormed out of the room, embarrassed.

"Sorry, John. I didn't mean to cause a ruckus."

"Don't worry about it." He snatched the fudge from the table. "She'll forgive me. I hope. You can share all that Wraith info with her later, okay? I need her to relax right now."

"Has something happened?" Carson asked, suddenly concerned.

"No. Well, sort of. She was very upset seeing the Wraith queen...that thing reminded her of the harvest and all of that shit...she got sick, Carson. Threw up. Was convinced we never should have started a family, but I calmed her down and she's fine now. I need to keep her that way."

"Agreed, John. I can wait to confer with her tomorrow." He waited, but John hadn't moved. Was studiously eying the fudge in his hands. Carson inwardly sighed. "Was there something else, colonel?"

"No. I just...I mean...I...she...the baby...she...Moira. Moira's a woman."

Carson tried not to smile as John's tone was serious. "Aye, so she is, John. A pregnant woman."

"Yes. That's what I meant."

"I'm sorry?"

"She's a pregnant woman. Why isn't she...I mean...aren't women supposed to be happy when they are pregnant?" he finally managed to voice his question. Glanced at the open doorway lest Moira was lurking. He looked at Carson.

Carson shrugged. "Aye, I suppose. I'm sure Moira is happy, John. Remember, she's adjusting to all of this. And it was unplanned. Unexpected. Give her time."

John entered his room. Crossed into theirs. "Moira?" He set the fudge onto the table. Turned as she entered. A pile of folders in her hands.

"Oh. Colonel Sheppard."

He smiled. "Doctor Sheppard."

"I'm busy, colonel. You can take your fudge and–"

"Don't say shove it, doctor." He caught her as she passed. Pulled her into an embrace. A kiss.

"John!" she protested. Pushed as the folders fluttered out of her hands to the floor. "Thanks! Thanks a lot!" She knelt, began to gather them.

"Oh, you'll be thanking me, baby. Thanking me on your knees," he teased.

"Hilarious, John."

He knelt, helped her but she swatted his hands away. "Moira?"

"No! I'm serious, John. Go away!" She gathered the papers.

"So am I, baby. Believe me."

"Promises, promises, sweetie." She stood, moved to the table and set the folders down. "Now I have to organize these again. Carson's got some tissue samples for me to study as well as some preliminary scans. And Rodney wants me to see if I can help initialize some Ancient thing with my superpower gene. Something about aligning it with the alien tech to create an interface."

John stood. Moved to stand behind her. Slid his arms around her waist, pulling her gently against him. "Sounds like you are in demand, baby. Where does that leave me?"

She smiled. Catching his hands before they could wander. "Last on the list, I'm afraid, sweetie. You see, Carson wants me for my brains. Rodney wants me for my ATA gene. You, well, you just want me for my body."

He smiled. Kissed her throat. "True. Every single inch of you, baby. And as I recall you came on to me, hmm? Or have you conveniently forgotten that?"

She turned to him. Arms sliding up around his neck. "Oh, is that how it was?" she teased. Tilting her head coyly. She bit her lower lip, chewed. Moaned softly. "John...oh John..." She kissed him.

"Is that a yes?" he inquired, brow raised.

"Yes."

"Sheppard's delight?"

"Yes."

He smiled. Kissed her. Kept kissing her as he pulled out a chair. Freed her. "Get naked, baby."

"Fudge first, sweetie." She pushed him back into the chair. Leaned back on the table. Unwrapped the fudge. She straddled his lap, facing him. Ate a piece of the dessert. Fed him a piece. "Mmm...that is so good, sweetie!" She squirmed on his lap.

He smiled. "Very good. Keep doing that, baby. Harder. Faster. But remove the pants. The panties. The shirt. The bra. Everything."

She kissed him. Scooted back. Unbuckled, undid, unzipped his pants. She fingered the straps on his thigh. "This, this is so sexy, John." She ran her fingers along it. "I can see why the garters turn you on, sweetie. Oh my! Look! It's like a roadmap to your equipment."

"Hilarious, Moira." He kissed her. Suddenly grabbed her rear to squeeze. To lift her.

"John!" she exclaimed.

"Off! Now!" he ordered gruffly.

She laughed. Grabbed another piece of fudge. Fed him one. She stood. Turned away to demurely remove her pants. "Even my favorite pair of panties, John?" she teased, shaking her rear at him.

He laughed. "Property of Colonel John Sheppard," he read aloud. Laughed. "Damn right, baby. Now show me that pert little ass in all of its glory. Ah fuck...fuck..." he moaned as she leaned over, sliding the material off her. She straightened, looked over her shoulder at him. "Well, colonel? Your turn."

He raised his eyes to hers. Stood. "I'll have to remove the holster, baby." He did so, unstrapping it. Draped it over the chair. Yanked down his pants. "No comments," he warned sternly.

She smirked. "Very...um...appropriate, colonel."

"None. Shut up, Moira." He pulled down his shorts, sat on the chair. "Shit! Metal's cold!"

She laughed. Slid onto his lap, straddling him. Sighed. "Oh John..." She kissed him, gyrating. "Camo is very you, sweetie...even in baby blue..." She giggled.

"Moira Sheppard!" He swatted her rear, laughed and kissed her passionately. Shoving her onto his hardening cock. He lifted her and eased her down, eased himself into her. Groaned. "Ah baby...so fucking sweet!"

"John! John, oh John...I wanted more fudge!" she complained, but grabbed his arms, moving up and down. Slowly. Moaned as the pleasure slowly built.

"Wait, baby. The shirt has to go."

"What?"

"Please, Moira. I have to see your beautiful tits when we really get going here." He groaned as she tightened on him. "Moira..." He slid his hands under her shirt.

"Fine, but that goes for you too, sweetie." She pulled off her turtleneck. Freed her hair to swirl wildly around her. He pulled off his shirt, threw it to the floor. He fingered the bra straps. "Hey, soldier! You only said the shirt to oh John, oh John, oh John!" she enthused, arching as she moved faster, up and down, up and down.

He groaned, thrusting. Yanking down the bra. "I said every inch, baby, oh fuck fuck fuck!" he growled, grabbing her rear and squeezing. He kissed her hard. Tongue thrusting with each movement of his cock. Rocking her on him. "Wait! Wider! You're crushing my balls!"

She laughed, but whimpered, arching as his mouth slid down to her breasts. Tongue teasing. "John! Oh John, John, John!" she cried, moving faster, faster. The orgasm close now.

"Ssh, baby, ssh," he cautioned, although her loud exuberance only made him harder. Moira gasped, clutched, starting to come with inarticulate abandon. "Part two!" he growled, thrusting hard. Abruptly lifting her up onto the table.

Moira gasped. Grabbing John as he swept a clear space on the table, spilling flowers, papers. The fudge almost fell to the floor as he pushed her onto her back and thrust, thrust in a frenzied momentum. "John! Oh John, John please, please oh God. More, more oh John!" she cried as the climax hit. The table rocking violently under her. John groaned in release as he came hard, spasm after spasm. Body entwined with hers. Mouth now entwined with hers until he slid it to her breasts again.

"Fuck! Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!" he grunted, pleasure rushing.

"Ssh, John, ssh oh John! John!" she purred as he slowed, slowed. Kissed her and slid out of her. Pulled her up, then back onto his lap as he sat on the chair. She kissed him, leaned against him. Kissing up his throat, nibbling. "Oh John!"

"Better, baby? I do love Sheppard's delight, but that was a little quick, wasn't it? Damn...oh, sorry, John junior. I hope he's strapped in there securely, Moy."

"Shut up, John," she chastised mildly. Leaned back to grab some fudge. She fed him a piece. He fed her one. She took his finger as well. Sucked. Swirled. Smiled at his passionate, loving gaze. Changing from satisfaction to renewed arousal.

He freed his finger. Ran it down to her breasts. "So fucking beautiful, baby..." he mused, but she lifted his face to hers. Kissed him.

"As are you, sweetie. Kiss me."

He did so, stroking her back. Long, lingering kisses until he gently scooted her back. "Bed. Wrap."

She clung as he shifted. Lifted her and carried her to the bed. He set her gently down, moved over her carefully. Kissing her again. "John? Are you–"

"Give me ten...maybe eleven." He rolled off her, onto his back. Relaxing. "Moy?"

"I'll be right back, sweetie. I'm not through with you yet." She kissed him. Stood and moved to the bathroom. He watched her go, eyes on her hair, her back, her rear


	5. Chapter 5

Imitation5

John sprawled on the bed, relaxing. Sated at the moment. "Moira? You're not going to get sick again, are you?" he called.

"No, John. Thirsty," she called, then emerged from the bathroom. Licked her lips. She was clad in a opened, large, long-sleeved white woven shirt. One of his. "I got cold," she explained.

"Cold? Well, come here, baby. I can remedy that ASAP." He smiled as she closed the shirt over her body. "Moira? Are you suddenly modest now?"

She climbed over him. "Like you, sweetie? Sprawled on our bed in all of your magnificence?"

He laughed. "Yeah," he drawled.

Moira laughed. Kissed him. "Oh John...John..." she wooed. Kiss after kiss, nibbling, sucking. Gently biting his lower lip. Gliding across his stubbly jaw. Circling his ear until he groaned. Down his throat. John relaxed, enjoying her attentions. Every kiss, every nibble. Every bite. "You are so fucking beautiful, John. Every inch. So male. So very alpha," she purred, kissing down his chest. Fingers tangling in his chest hair. Tongue teasing his nipples. She slid down to his waist.

John groaned happily, shifting. "Ah baby...keep going, please. Every inch of me, Moy, is yours for the taking."

"It had better be, sweetie," she agreed hotly. "All mine." She kissed down his hip, his pelvis. Nibbled as she slid lower.

He groaned in arousal, anticipation. Becoming tense and hard. "Yes, oh fuck, fuck...Moira," he rasped, her name a growl on his lips. He jerked as her nails ran up and down his cock. As her mouth ran up his inner thigh. So close, so close he could feel her warm breath between his legs. He nearly came. "Fuck!"

"Ssh, John!" She lightly ran her mouth along his other thigh while her fingers played between his legs.

"Ah God, God, Moira...do me, do me, baby! Fuck, fuck, fuck that is so sweet," he enthused harshly. Jerking again as her lips teased along his cock suddenly, startling him. He stared at her wild hair. The shirt opening to reveal her fuller breasts brushing him. A glimpse of the dark triangle between her legs. Her rear peeking out as she leaned down. "Fuck!"

"Ssh!" she scolded. Slid up to kiss him mouth. To press her body on his. Shifting so he couldn't enter her. Not yet. "Is that what you want, John? For me to go down on you? To suck your cock so hard, to squeeze your balls so tight you'll weep with pleasure?" she hotly teased. Kissing his throat again. Circling his ear.

"God yes! Yes, Moira, please!" he enthused hoarsely. "I'll give you anything you desire!"

"Ssh!" She slid down. Sat upon him. Ran her nails down his chest, his waist. Closed the shirt over her as he stared lustfully at her. "You need to keep quiet, sweetie. It's the middle of the afternoon. We have to be discreet. Hmm...shall I gag you? Should I tie you up and gag you? Then suck you until you are at the brink of release?"

"Yes! Yes, Moira, do it! Do all of it!" he urged, moving under her. So aroused it was almost painful. He pulled her down into a passionate kiss but she caught his hands. Pushed them back against the bed. Leaning over him now, gaze locked with his.

"Oh, sweetie, I can't. We broke the fucking headboard, so it's useless now."

"The sex room?" he suggested, impatient.

"Love nest? No. Too far. Oh John," she breathed across his cheek. Slid down. Stroking now as her mouth nibbled along his hip. "Is that your secret desire, colonel? Would it give you pleasure? To be tied to the bedpost. Gagged. Utterly at my mercy to play with your ordnance? Your equipment? Your fine, fine ass, and even, dare I say it, the forbidden zone?"

John couldn't speak. He moaned, so aroused he thought he was going to come on the bed before she had done anything. His fingers closed, clutched the blankets.

"John? Oh colonel, have I rendered you speechless? Such a naughty, naughty colonel wanting those things from me," she teased. She grasped him, squeezed gently. Then harder. Slid her fingers up and down, up and down. Faster. Faster. "My goodness, colonel, I've never seen you so big, so long, so hard. So fucking hard and wild...oops, look like we have an early deployment," she teased as a trickle escaped him.

John groaned, squirming. "Fuck! Moira, Moira, please..." he strained, painfully jerking as a spasm rocked him in her hands. Her fingers tightened on him. He opened his eyes, not having realized he had closed them. Giving himself completely to the rush of sex, desire, lust. He felt the absence of her hands, her mouth, her body. "Moira?" he croaked, half sitting to look for her. Almost dizzy with arousal, need.

"We can improvise, sweetie." Moira returned from his room, closing the shirt around her again. She slid over him. Kissed him. "Whoa there, soldier! No deployment yet!" She laughed, swerving to avoid his very erect cock from entering her. She opened her thighs, slid onto his leg so he could feel her own arousal. The wetness along his skin.

"Fuck! Fuck, Moira, is it tease John's cock day again?" he growled. Impatient.

"No, sweetie. It's bring John to sexual ecstasy day," she soothed. Paused. Kissed him. Sat to tilt her head, considering, nibbling her lower lip. "Or it's just fuck John's brains out day. I can't decide which."

He smiled. Shifting under her. Watching her as the shirt opened a little. He lifted up to kiss a breast. To teasingly suck at the nipple until she pushed him onto his back. Grabbed his wrists. She stretched his arms over his head, tied his wrists together. Secured them to what was left of the headboard. She slid down, kissing him. Ran another stocking over his face. "Now, sweetie, don't you rip my nylons with those strong biceps of yours, all right? Now, which do you prefer?"

"Huh?" he asked. Captivated. Staring avidly at her.

She smiled. Ran the fabric teasingly across his jaw. "Eyes? Or mouth? Will you be quiet enough that I can cover your eyes so you can feel every single sensation vividly? Or," she kissed him again, "or will I need to gag you so you will be reasonably quiet and can watch everything I plan to do to you? You choose." She kissed him. Ran her mouth down his throat. Up his throat. Circled his ear and bit.

"Fuck..oh fuck...Moira...Moira...is this heaven?" he asked blissfully. Surrendering to her attentions, her teasing,, her sensual provocations. "Baby? Um...um..."

She slid down, kissing as she went. "I need a decision, John." Fingers playing on his hardness again. She licked her lips. Reached round and showed him a bottle of caramel sauce. "Hmm?"

His eyes lit up seeing the bottle. Knowing how far she might go with the addition of the caramel to entice her, embolden her. He jerked in the air, a partial thrust shaking in her hands. "Fuck! Damn it, Moy, just fuck me! Please," he calmed his tone. Shifting.

"Decisions, decisions, sweetie," she taunted. Kissing his thigh. "Or this big, hard ordnance of yours gets no relief. None." She opened the bottle. Dribbled a little caramel sauce along him. Licked delicately, like a cat licking cream. Her darting tongue teasing his sensitive flesh.

"Oh fuck! Fuck!" he squirmed, tugging at the bonds, gaze riveted on her. About to come as he jerked once more, hips thrusting upwards. Wanting to enter that teasing mouth, move past those rosy lips. Seeking the heat, the wetness, the snugness he craved. His cock craved. "Um, um, mouth! Mouth!" he quickly decided.

She slid up his body. Kissed him passionately. Eased the stocking into his mouth, gently tied it. "Okay?" He nodded. Brilliant green eyes sparkling. "I knew you'd choose mouth, John. Since you love to watch. Kinky." He groaned in delight. "Hold on, sweetie." She held the open bottle of caramel sauce. Dribbled some on his inner arm. "You better hold on tight, colonel. I hope you don't need the safe word since you are gagged," she teased with a smile.

* * *

John woke groggily. He shifted, found himself sprawled on his stomach on the bed. Felt Moira on top of him. He wondered at the unusual positioning. Then smiled. A rush of echoing pleasure coursed through his body. Intensely sensual. Sexual. Astounded at the things they had done. Astounded at what Moira had done. Bringing him so wildly, so hotly he thought his cock would never go down. He didn't want it to as orgasm followed orgasm. Doing everything he could only imagine her doing but never daring to ask. But somehow she knew. Knew he got off on being tied up. Knew he got off on her being dripping wet, so she had jumped into the shower. Emerged wet, the shirt still on her, clinging and sheer. Knew he'd get off when she fingered him intimately. She had been more than generous with the caramel sauce. Following it with her mouth along his inner arms. His sides. His pelvis. His thigh.

A generous application on his cock as she went down on him. Taking him completely. Sucking and swirling. Hard. He looked at his wrists. Saw the ripped nylons. Recalled wrenching them from the headboard during his violent spasms, coming so hard, so intensely he did nearly weep with pleasure. Groaning so loudly into the gag he thought he might choke but she had slid up his body and removed it from his mouth. Then she had taken him into her as he thrashed, thrust. Another wave of arousal culminating in ejaculation. So fast and hard he was afraid he might hurt her or the baby she carried. But reveling in the sex, the driving sex as she did.

He recalled her falling on him, exhausted. Having exhausted herself riding him, bringing herself on him. Her soft whimpers and cries music to his ears she came upon him. He remembered rolling them over so she was beneath him. So he could enter her again, slower now, but steady. Hands and mouth wandering freely over her body. To bring her again in a sobbing climax.

John shifted. "Moira? Sweetheart? We, um...we probably should get up, you know...I..." He glanced at the graying light seeping into the room from the window. A rain was falling. He felt a chill where her body wasn't pressed to his. "Moy?"

Moira stirred sleepily. Nestled. Ran her fingers through his hair. Kissed the back of his neck. Down to his shoulders. "John...oh John..." she whispered. Sliding down slowly to kiss along his back. Down, down.

John groaned, shifted. "Moira? You've got to be kidding me!"

She laughed against his skin. Going lower. Squeezed his rear. "Such a fine, fine ass, colonel. Damn...and this bit's not too bad either." Her fingers slid between his legs. Under him.

"Hey!" he protested, moving.

She slid off him, sighed. Drew the shirt around her as he rolled onto his side. He drew her close. She snuggled. "Um...John..."

"Oh oh. I knew this was coming. Hey, don't you go blaming me, baby. You initiated this. You...fuck, you completely owned me, baby. Damn...so don't you go all melodramatic on me."

"I...um...sorry, John."

"Sorry?" He kissed her. "I don't think so, baby. Thank you. I know I said you'd be thanking me on your knees, but I really should be on my knees thanking you. Fuck."

"Shut up, John."

"That's better, Moira." He kissed her. Reluctantly glanced at the clock. "It's a wonder we haven't been disturbed. Not even in mid-coitus."

"I...um...I turned off your earpiece," Moira admitted.

Her met her gaze. "You what?"

She shrugged, closing the shirt again as his gaze inevitably lowered, lowered. She tugged it down over her hips. "Sorry, John. I...I wanted you. All to myself. Before you leave me. To go on missions and...um..."

"And um?" he asked, frowning. "You've been very naughty, Moira. Very."

She smiled, feeling a shiver at his low, husky tone. The scowl on his face promising sensual retribution. "Sorry, sweetie." She snuggled against him. "I just wanted to give you whatever you desired before you, um..."

"Um again? Before I what, Moy?"

"I wanted you, John. I wanted to erase all the bad stuff. You know. About, you know. Us. John junior. The, the harvest."

"Oh. I see. Well, mission accomplished, baby."

"Are you mad, John?" she asked, watching him scoot to the edge of the bed. Turn away from her to grab the earpiece. Slide it on. Activate it. "John?"

"Yes, Moira, I am furious," he said mildly. "How dare you monopolize my time, my cock, my fantasies, my bed. How dare you force me to indulge in hours of intense sexual activity until I thought I'd die of it. How dare you give me everything I could possibly want."

She smirked, sat as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. "Sorry, John."

"Sorry? That won't cover it, Moira. Not by half. You have been a very, very naughty girl and you will be severely punished. I'll start with a spanking but you have earned more than that. You will be disciplined, baby, in ways that you haven't even dreamed about. Yet." He tapped the earpiece. "This is Colonel Sheppard. Status?" He smiled as Moira ran her hands up his back. Caressing his shoulders.

"All's quiet, sir. Orders?"

"No...I mean, none. Thanks." He tapped it, turned to meet her loving gaze. "That's weird. Is this more of your–"

"No. Maybe they saw the sock on the door," she jested. Kissed him. "I am so tired, John, but damn...you..."

He smiled. Kissed her. Moved her onto her back. "Moira."

"John? Now you've got to be kidding me!"

He laughed. "Maybe. Damn."


	6. Chapter 6

Imitation6

John opened the shirt. Ran his hands along her body. Along her breasts. His mouth followed. Moira moaned, arching. Fingers in his hair.

"Oh John..." she whispered.

"Mmm, baby...so fucking beautiful, so fucking sweet." His kisses moved lower, lower. He pushed her thighs apart to kiss along her pelvis, her hips.

"John? Oh John...John...no...you...no oh John..."

He smiled at her escalating voice, passion. Arousal. "Ssh, baby...or do I need to gag you?" He looked up her body, met her gaze as she stared at him. "Which would you choose, Moira? Eyes, or mouth? Hmm..." He drummed his fingers on her thigh. "Eyes so you could feel everything, every single thing vividly while you make me rock hard with those beautiful sounds? Or mouth, so you can see me, see every part of me and keep as quiet as you can? I think you'd choose eyes, wouldn't you?" He kissed her thigh again. Fingers probing, stroking all along her folds now.

She squirmed, tried to close her legs. "John, oh John...please, no...we...you couldn't possibly...oh God, oh God, John, John..." she helplessly murmured as his fingers plied, probed. Were getting slick as she flooded, responding to him. He slid his fingers under her as his mouth burrowed into her cleft. Tongue thrusting after the nub to make her whimper, to make her sob, to make her beg for release. Moira gasped, arching, trying not to open wide, not to clench, to grab, to shove him into her as the sensations grew, grew. Grew to a crescendo of pleasure. "John! Oh John!"

"Fuck," he muttered, but resumed aggressively. Nibbling, thrusting, probing until she cried out. Writhing, clawing the blankets. "John! Oh John, John, John!" Moira trembled as she came, a rush of orgasm so intense she felt tears. She whimpered, moaned. He finally freed her, his mouth running up to her breasts. Finding himself hard again. He entered her, groaned. "Fuck, fuck...oh yes, baby, harder. Harder! So fucking wet...oh tighter...oh fuck me, Moira." He thrust harder, faster, rocking them and the bed.

"John! Oh John, John, John!" she cried, unable to lower her voice. The pleasure, the ecstasy thrumming wildly. He moaned, came in a shudder. Fell upon her, shifting his weight and slid out of her. "John! John, damn! Your, your ordnance..."

"Fuck, I can't get enough, baby...your damn mouth...those sounds," he complained, but kissed her. Rolled off her onto his back. "Moira, we have to get separate beds. This escalating passion...damn...it's still escalating...are you okay? I can't even feel my cock again."

"I'm fine, John," she answered when she could trust her voice. "Your, your ordnance! Your ordnance is lethal!" She closed the shirt, her legs. "Seriously, sweetie, does it ever go down? How many women have you killed with that thing?"

He laughed. "You're the only one who keeps it up so long. Keeps it so hard I may need to seek medical attention. I'm not kidding, baby. You are so fucking lush down there it makes my mouth water...and those sounds you make...damn..."

"Lovely, John!" She sat, brushed back her hair. Still flustered as she tried to catch her breath. "That's it! No more sex, sweetie. I'm serious. No foreplay, no flirtation, no fudge. I'm nearly numb down there now."

He grinned. "But it was worth it, baby. I'm so tired, Moy. But we should get up, shouldn't we?"

"I don't care." She reclined, her back to him. Closing the shirt as she watched the rain beat upon the window. "I have all this work to do but instead I'm too busy fucking Colonel Sheppard."

"Yeah, lucky bastard." He spooned against her. Arm sliding over her waist. He kissed her cheek. "So...same time tomorrow, baby?"

She laughed. "Shut up, John! No more."

"For now, you mean." He sat, pulled a blanket over them as reclined once more. "Screw it. I'm not getting up yet. You are too delicious. And warm." She snuggled against him as he spooned into her.

"John...I've been thinking...are we having too much sex again?"

"Maybe today...but who cares? The more the better, baby. As long as you want it. I know I do. And we don't knock John junior around too much. Poor guy."

She shifted. "Hilarious, John. Just a quick nap, okay? You wear me out, sweetie."

"Me? You drain me dry, baby. It's a wonder I have any sperm left. At least one guy got through."

"Shut up, John." She kissed his hand, held it near her breasts.

He kissed her cheek, her throat. "Go to sleep. A quick nap. Then dinner. Work. No, sex. Just sex and then sleep."

"No sex, John. Just sleep."

"Okay. Shit." He sighed. Kissed her cheek and freed her. Sat. "Except I can't take a nap, Moira. I've got to check on the Alpha site. I think I'll have Reynolds and his team return. We can keep a monitor on that thing overnight. I can't stay in here fucking Doctor Sheppard all day. Oh wait, can I?"

She laughed. Rolled onto her back to eye him. "Well, colonel, you are the military commander of Atlantis, and I am under your purview. Except when I'm on top of it."

He smiled. "True. But even my purview needs a break now and then, not to mention yours."

She laughed. "John..."

He kissed her. "All right, baby. Back to work. But don't work too much. One project, not five. Got it? Direct orders."

"As ordered, colonel."

* * *

Moira entered the infirmary, crossed to the medical lab. "Um...Carson? I...sorry! I know I should have been here sooner! Are those the samples?"

Carson glanced at her. She appeared flustered, but relaxed. Was glowing and Carson realized it was not just from the pregnancy. He smiled. "Yes, love. The slides there...and you can view the preliminary scans on that." He pointed to the laptop. Turned back to his microscope.

"Thank you." She sat, coloring. Still feeling the wild, exuberant, repeated sex with John. Her body practically thrumming with the memory of it. "I'm sorry," she repeated, " I know I should have been here sooner. I didn't mean to leave you hanging on the vid link. That, that female Wraith reminded me of the Queen who...did you know that Rodney tested my ATA gene and I have a double one now? From being pregnant with John's...well, that female reminded me of the, the harvest and the breeding program...and the alternate reality's ATA Wraith and I thought, I thought I shouldn't have gotten pregnant with John's...I got upset and I had to see John...to talk to John because he's....I needed time with John...just John because he's my husband and I'm carrying his baby and we shouldn't have bred but we did and I needed John to..." she stammered, about to burst into tears.

Carson smiled. "Easy, love. It's fine, Moira. Don't worry about any of it. And of course you should be with John when you are upset. Especially over this. And of course you should have his baby. So don't fret. Are you feeling better now?"

She calmed. Nodded. "Yes. Oh yes...I feel much better now." She shifted on the chair, smiled. "I feel wonderful, Carson! John. John's wonderful! He's...he is very...um..."

"Let me guess, wonderful? Good. You don't have to do this, Moira, if it's going to upset you."

"No, I'm fine now. I'm fine now," she repeated, turning to the scan. "I...I have John."

"Yes, you most certainly do," he teased, amused.

Moira hesitated. "Um, Carson...I...are, um, are cravings normal? For a, a pregnant woman?"

"Cravings? Yes. Perfectly normal."

"Oh. Okay," she said, relieved.

"For certain foods or certain flavors," he continued slyly.

"Oh? Oh..."she frowned in concern.

"Or certain people...certain, shall we say, activities. Lucky bastard," Carson teased.

"What? I...oh...oh! Carson Beckett!"

He laughed. "Sorry, love. I couldn't resist. Sorry."

She sighed. "It's not funny!"

"No. Not funny," he agreed. "That lucky bastard," he muttered, causing her to smile.

* * *

"John!" Rodney strode to his friend as John was walking, almost swaggering down the hallway. "Where the hell have you been?"

"Me? Busy," he said, sounding bored.

"Busy? Doing what? Does Carson know? He said I shouldn't disturb you for at least a few hours but I kept trying your earpiece but it didn't work! What did you do, shut it off? What have you been doing?"

"Ah." John realized why there had been no interruptions. "Oh, you know, the usual." He smirked, moving past Rodney, adding quietly, "fucking wildly with Moira until we both passed out from sexual inebriation."

"What? What did you say?" Rodney asked, catching up to walk beside him.

"Huh? Oh, this and that. That and this. Repeatedly." He smirked. "What did you need?"

"Huh? Oh! I've been trying to piece together this alien tech and I have created an interface with some of our own systems now. Plus I employed an Ancient power source but it keeps failing so I need you, no, no, I need Moira to power it up as she is stronger than you now. Where is Moira anyway?"

"Probably working with Carson. So...this alien tech...what is it?"

"My work is more important, as you know. Bring her down to my lab. I'll need her to power up the system again and she should be able to do it. Oh, of course, that's where you were, wasn't it? Doing this and that, that and this? You have that smug, satisfied cat got all the cream look."

"I do?" John smiled. "Moira can help you later, after she finishes with Carson. The Wraith data comes first, Rodney."

"And why couldn't she do that earlier? Good God, John, how long were you with her? Two hours? Three? I needed–"

"She needed me. She's my wife, remember? Carrying my child. All this talk of the ATA gene and the Wraith brought back bad memories."

"Oh right, like you needed two hours to comfort her over...oh...the harvest...the..." Rodney realized, expression falling.

"Yes. How our son is the Holy Grail of ATA gene carriers, yes. You need to lay off about that, okay?"

"Okay, okay! Sorry! I mean, I just assumed you were um, um...well, you know..."

John met his gaze. Smiled at his embarrassment. "Yeah. That too," he agreed smugly. "My wife. Give her an hour with Carson and then you can see if she wants to help you. If. And no more talk about my son, all right?" He sauntered down the hallway.


	7. Chapter 7

Imitation7

Moira sat back, yawned. Stretched her arms over her head. Arching slightly, inadvertently thrusting her breasts out. She straightened suddenly, noticing a man across the room staring at her. She turned away from him to Carson, embarrassed. Glancing down recalling John's observations, praise. His effusions. His lingering gaze. She looked at the monitor again. "This is fascinating, Carson. I wish I wasn't so tired. Look at this. From this scan, at least, the body could be a human female. I mean it has all of the organs and, and um, everything...but shrunken."

Carson nodded, meeting her gaze. He smiled. "Yes...shriveled from disuse, perhaps. The digestive track, for example. But the reproductive organs are intact. With startling differences. Insect-like differences, almost, wouldn't you say? But the rest..."

Moira nodded, shifting on the chair, uncomfortable but interested. "Yes. An amalgamation. No, something more. A synthesis, perhaps? Which can only mean one thing."

"Yes. They must use it. Why else have it?"

"Not for the drones but for the higher functioning Wraith...and the females." Moira frowned, thinking. "Like the bees."

"Excuse me, love? Moira, we've been at this for a good solid hour. Why don't you call it a night? We will have vastly more data tomorrow when I begin the autopsy."

"Are you trying to get rid of me, Carson? I'm fine! I still have to look at the tissue samples and run a comparison of the DNA. And the analysis of the proteins, I'm still working on that." She yawned. "Sorry! I am tired...but I need to–"

"All of this can wait, Moira. It's not going anywhere, and like I said, we will have much more information tomorrow. Go. Get something to eat. Then off to bed with you."

She smiled at his stern tone. "No. I'm fine, Carson."

"I see. Am I going to have to ground you again, Moira? Are you going to make me call John? I'm sure he would be more than willing to put you to bed."

"Yes, he would be very...Carson!" He laughed. She sighed. "Is it...um...that obvious?" she asked, even as a blush bloomed along her face.

"Aye. Very. Now go."

* * *

John rubbed his eyes. Yawned. "Say that again."

Rodney scowled. "Again? Can you at least pretend to pay attention! Why are you so tired? No! Don't answer that! As I was saying, this device looks to be some kind of scanner. See the modules here?" He pointed at a tiny array of bulbs. All dark. At the readout screen. "But it is dead so far. And this? This part...I haven't a clue what this is."

"Alien," John noted. At Rodney's glare he shrugged. Took the device into his hands. "And it won't initiate even with my gene?"

"No. That's what I've been saying. Even with the unilateral interface of Ancient and our tech it is still inert and I can't quite figure out the function. Plus the schematics are screwy. That's why I need Moira down here."

"Maybe you put it together wrong, being alien and all," John said, putting the device back onto the table. He yawned again.

"No! It is assembled correctly!" He paused. "I think. No. No! I know it is! I just don't know what it is yet, or what it is supposed to do. And so far I haven't been able to identify it via the records from the SGC on alien cultures in our own galaxy. Not yet, anyway."

"Keep trying. On all of that."

"I will, but I still need Moira. Her gene is way stronger than even yours right now and I need her to bring this online. What is that? On your chin?"

"Huh? Oh." John rubbed, removed a stray spill of caramel sauce. He smiled, trying not to laugh. Surprised, because Moira had been very thorough. Very. Especially on certain parts of his anatomy.

"What? What is it now?" he asked, seeing John's blissful smile. The faraway look in his eyes as he stared at nothing.

John was lost in memories of Moira. Of the intense, kinky sex. The relentless teasing she had inflicted on him before bringing him in spectacular fashion. "What? Oh...just thinking of Moira and her strong gene."

Rodney shook his head. "Right, sure you were. Get your head out of the clouds, John! This is important! Get some coffee or something stronger, would you? And bring Moira down here." to John's sudden glower he reluctantly added, "Please. It is important."

"I do need some coffee. And Moira...well, if she's not too tired I will ask if she will come down here. If not this can wait a day."

* * *

Moira ate quickly, lightly. Trudged to her room. She could barely keep her eyes open. She undressed, pulled on her pajamas. Got into bed and lay there. Wishing John was with her. She debated whether or not to call him. She got up, moved to the comm unit on the wall. Hit the button. "Chuck, could you locate Colonel Sheppard for me, please?"

"Of course, Moira. I'll connect you," the voice assured.

She waited, staring out the window at the rain.

John stretched, shoved his half-eaten sandwich aside. Rubbed his temples. "God, I'm so tired," he complained. "Can't this wait?"

"No, it can't," Rodney argued. "I told you, I think I need to go to that planet where Lorne found this stuff. I may be able to find more if I use a scanner to detect the unique designs of this stuff. There could be more under the rubble. Now that Reynolds and his team are back and we have a live monitor on that, that dead, er, thing I'm sure you can lead a mission to–"

"Colonel Sheppard, copy?"

John tapped his earpiece, thankful for the interruption. "Copy. What is it?"

"I'm connecting you to Moira, sir."

"Oh. Okay. Moira?"

"Good! Have her meet me in the lab to–" Rodney ordered but John glared at him.

Moira started at John's voice. "John? Are you busy? I...um...I need–"

"On my way, Moira. Ours?"

She smiled. "Yes. John, it's not important. I just um...I'm so tired and need to sleep but I–"

"On my way," John repeated. "Me too. Sheppard out." He smiled. "Sorry, Rodney. Gotta go."

"What? Oh come on, John! Not more–"

"Sleep. We can resume this tomorrow." He stood. Eyed his friend. Then left. Hastened to his room. Looked into theirs. Smiled. "Hey."

Moira looked over, sitting up in the bed. "Hey. Sorry, I just...I don't think I'll be able to sleep without you. I'm..."

"Tired, yeah, I'm beat. Be with you in five."

"You can go once I'm–"

"Asleep? No. I won't. Five."

She laid back, smiled. "It's just...I've got all that stuff, you know...in my head. From the research and all...it's quite fascinating, John. If I wasn't so damn tired I'd still be working. But Carson said we'll have more tomorrow. They are quite complex, remarkable creatures, John. The Wraith, I mean. Well, the females specifically. I think we may be on to something. John? John, am I putting you to sleep?"

He gently laughed, moving to her. He was clad in a navy t-shirt, pajama pants. He waved off the lights. The room was plunged into a darkling gray. He got into the bed next to her. "Ah. The sabertooth cat pjs? I don't know if I can contain myself."

"Hilarious, John." She kissed him as he laid down. She snuggled against him. "I could barely keep my eyes open during the research! We are having too much sex, sweetie."

"No. Too intense, maybe, but not too much. And I didn't get much sleep last night." He kissed her. "Relax, Moy. I'm here. Not going anywhere." He closed his eyes. "So fucking tired."

"Sleep, John. Stay with me. You are so warm..." She snuggled, pulling the blanket over them. She kissed him. Closed her eyes. Fingers clutching at his shirt.

John stroked her back, relaxing. "You're safe, Moy. Secure. Mine. I'm here. With you." His voice fell softly as he drifted, drifted.

* * *

John woke with a start. Heart racing. He stared at the darkness as the nightmare faded. The same nightmare of Moira leaving him, leading his son to the colonel. Her sad, resigned tone.

"I'm sorry, John. I made a deal to save you. To save the city."

The elongated cry of no trapped in his throat. He reached over to feel her. But only cold blankets met his fingers. He sat. Licked his lips. "Moira?" He listened. Heard nothing. Only a creepy wind whistling outside. No lights shone from the bathroom. Unsettled he stood. Checked the bathroom anyway. Checked his room. His bathroom. "Moira?" He wondered where she had gone. If she had decided to work. If she had gotten hungry. If she had gotten sick. The infirmary. He sprinted there, heedless of his bare feet, his pajamas. Seeing Carson he walked over slowly, peering round the darkened room. The beds empty. "Carson? Where's..."

John froze. Carson had turned to him. He appeared different, somehow. Something was off and John couldn't place it. "Where's Moira?" he asked, trying to ignore the strange disjointed feeling assaulting him. "Is she here? Did she get sick again?" He felt the chill of the floor on his bare feet. The lack of a sidearm unsettling suddenly.

"John? Moira's not here," Carson answered.

"I can see that, Carson! Maybe the cafeteria...or in the lab...she was working on–"

"John, have you forgotten? Moira's not in Atlantis any more. Don't you remember?"


	8. Chapter 8

Imitation8

An icy trickle of fear ran down John's back. "Not here?" he repeated slowly. "Any more?" His stomach clenched.

"Yes. She's gone, John," Carson said gently. "Gone with John junior. The colonel. Don't you remember? She saved your life. Had to go help him raise the city with John junior."

John felt he was falling. Spinning out of control. The breath knocked out of him. The floor suddenly gone as he plunged, plunged. Until he thrashed, shot straight up out of bed, gasping. "No! Moira! Moira, no! Moira!" he shouted, staring round wildly at the darkness. He felt a hand close on his arm and nearly lashed out, but caught himself.

Moira sat, wide awake. Alarmed. "John? John, I'm here! I'm here, John, with you! Sweetie, calm down. I'm fine, you're fine, even John junior is fine."

He relaxed slowly, staring at her. He caught her hand, glancing down at her body concealed by the sabertooth cat pajamas. Then out to the room.

"I know he's not even a baby yet but since you insist on calling him...John? Sweetie, what's wrong?" She drew his face to hers. Kissed him. "Honey, tell me. The dream again? The same one?" She snuggled against him. As if her solidity would prove that she was fine. His arm slid around her.

Finally he spoke. When he could trust his voice. "Yeah. The nightmare. The same...exactly the same...but...you...you leaving me and..."

"I'd never leave you, John!" she soothed, kissing him again.

"But you did." He met her gaze. Saw her concern, her love. "You did, Moy. You did it to save me. You...it was three or four years in the future. You made some deal with the colonel to save me. Took John junior to the colonel to raise the city. But this time when I woke I didn't. I was still there, in that horrible future...and Carson...he told me you were gone with John junior. He looked different. The same but not...you know?" He sighed.

"No, John. It was just a bad dream. I'm not leaving you. I'm not leaving you for...you. I won't. I would never take your son from you," she assured, puzzling over his words.

He looked at her, held her close. "Moy...promise me. Will you promise me?"

"Of course, John. I–"

He kissed her. Moving them down so she was under him. He shifted some of his weight off her. Brushed back her hair. Gently ran his finger over her lips, her throat. Gazing steadily into her brown eyes. "Moy, you have to promise me. To never, never leave me. To never take John junior from me. To never, never go back to the colonel no matter what the circumstances. Not even to save me. I'd rather die anyway, if you were taken from me, if my son was. So you must promise me, Moira."

"Of, of course, John," she soothed, unsettled by his intensity. "I promise you. I will never leave you. I will never take your son from you. Not even for, for another you. John?"

"Not even to save the city. Not even to save me."

"John, relax, it was just a–"

"I mean it, Moira. You let me die instead of leaving me here alone. Instead of taking my son," he intoned gravely, voice low. "Promise me. If you love me you will."

"Okay, John. Okay. It was just a dream, a nightmare."

"That I've had twice now, in exact detail. Exactly the same."

"I thought I was the one with the superpowers, not you," she gently teased to lighten his mood. "Are you psychic now? John, it was a nightmare. Something is obviously bothering you so you are experiencing a manifestation of those fears, those doubts. The worry of our son being the prize your enemies want. You always deflect from the real problem. It could be something else, something deeper. Darker. Will you tell me, John?"

"No. I mean, I honestly don't know. I mean, sure, all of that ATA shit bothers me, but I can handle that. I've never deflected like this, Moira. Never. I've never had a nightmare two days running in vivid, exact detail! Shit, even my feet are cold like they were in my dream!"

Moira kissed him. Pushed him so she was on top of him. She sprawled on him the way he liked. Caressed his hair, his temples. Gently kissed him. "All right, sweetie." She stroked his brow. Lifted to view his troubled face. "Let's look at this logically. This nightmare...it's in the future?"

"Yes. John junior was three, or four. Toddling after you. Clumsy." He smiled for a moment. "You should have seen him, Moy. He was like a mini-me. Wild hair and all. But with your cute nose and the bluest eyes. He had on the cutest little BDUs...and you...you were as beautiful as ever but so sad...so heartbreakingly sad. I was being held back, on my knees. As you left me. For the colonel. My son...you took him..."

She kissed him as emotions rippled. Loss. Fear. "Ssh, sweetie. Three or four years in the future? Somehow the colonel gets through the anomaly. Somehow finds out we have a child. Think about it, John. It's a remote possibility."

"No. Not, it's not." He gently moved her aside. Sat. Got out of the bed. Began to pace.

"I'd never make a deal involving your son, John," she soothed, sitting to watch him.

"Maybe not...but he...he would find a way. I know him, Moira! I'm part of him. He's part of me. He knows you hold the key. To kill the Wraith, and now to raise the city. He will come for you. He will make McKay find a way here through the anomaly, another one we didn't know about, didn't secure. When his world is safe for you. When the last of the poison is gone. He will come for you to take you. To impregnate you to create the child to save the city. But he won't have to wait that long. Once he discovers John junior. He won't like that fact that he's my son, but the boy will work just the same. The same genetic material. The ATA genes. Ours. So he will find leverage. Not the child. Me. He will do something to me, threaten to kill me, or worse to make you go with him, to take my son to save his Atlantis. He..."

"John, John!" She jumped out of the bed, intercepted his path. Hugged him as he was working himself into a state of agitation. "No! John, it was a nightmare! None of it is real! Will be real! Please, John, please!"

He gently moved her back to see her worry. "Sweetheart, it is real. Well, a real possibility. In three or four years...I will make plans. Contingency plans. Don't you worry. I'll move you and John junior to Earth before that day, I swear."

"John!" But she considered. Nodded. "All right."

"What? Now you believe me?"

"No. I still think your nightmare is a manifestation of something more than these surface troubles, but there is no harm in making plans. You're good at that, John. We will go to Earth when you give the word. All right? But you...you should come with us."

"I'd have to stay here to defend the–"

"No, John. Either we all go, or no one goes." She stepped back from him. Folded her arms in front of her. Adopting his stubborn stance. "I won't be separated from you like that again, not knowing whether you are alive or, or not. And you won't put your son through that. Agreed?"

He considered. Had to smile at her obstinate stance. Clad in sabertooth pajamas, facing him down. "Okay, Moira. Okay."

"I'm serious, John. You promise me that," she insisted. Solemn.

"All right, Moira. Unless I can't leave to–"

"No. You will leave. I'm sorry, John, but in this case we are your priority. Otherwise I won't go. We can send John junior to safety, but I will not go."

"Damn, Moy, you drive a hard bargain," he remarked. Frowned. "You will go. You are still the prize if not my son. He could still use you."

"No. I won't leave you, John. Take it or leave it." S he sat on the bed. Stared at the darkness. "I'd rather die than leave you, or be apart from you like that again. If it means I have to kill myself to avoid that, so be it."

"Moira!" He stared at her. "Damn it!" He moved to sit next to her. "Sweetheart, you will not–"

"I will. I swear I will if you force this on me, John." She stared at the floor. "It's...it's not like I haven't been down that road before."

"You mean...after..." He tried to remember the name of her dead fiancee.

"Yes. I didn't get that far. I didn't even get to a practice cut...but I was...I was close...so close," she recalled, rubbing her inner wrist, lost in the memory. "I threw myself into my work instead. Cut out everything else, everyone except my uncle. Hell, they reviled me anyway. Most of them did. Blamed me. I did too...and some nights...years later I would wonder what stopped me. I would wish I had followed through on it."

John stared. He caught her wrist. Lifted it to his lips. Gently kissed. "Thank God you didn't, Moira." He kissed her wrist again. Proceeded to her lips, drawing her against him. "Sweetheart."

"I'm only telling you this because I know you will understand. And to show you how serious I am, John."

"All right, sweetheart." He kissed her brow. "I can't believe we're arguing over a nightmare, a future that may never even come to pass. At least not if I can help it." He considered. "I threw myself into work too. Well, school, then the Air Force. Cut off everyone, like you. Buried it all. I was happier alone most of the time. The perfect guy to post in remote locations, flying choppers and planes." His hand slid down to her abdomen. Gently caressed. "Moira...do you think that John junior will be as fucked up as we are?"

She smiled, caught his hand there. "No. No, John. Between the two of us we can guide him through anything. You'll see. But we have to be together."

"All right." He kissed her. Again. The motion of his mouth on hers soothing. Alluring. Another kiss as his fingers slid up to slowly unbutton her top. Moira lost herself in his kisses. So gentle and loving. His tongue teasing, drawing back. Entering shyly. She felt him unfasten each button. Slide his hand under the material to cup a bare breast. To caress. To run his thumb over the nipple. She broke a kiss.

"John?" she asked softly. Reacting to his wooing, his love.

He smiled. "Isn't this how we solve any crisis, baby?" He kissed her again. "I can hardly resist you in these sexy, sexy pajamas."

She laughed. Kissed him. Ran her hand up his thigh. "Oh."

"Oh." He kissed her again, moving her gently onto her back. Opening the top as his mouth slid down her throat. She sighed happily, longingly as he scooted lower. Lower. Mouth traveling over her skin.

"Oh John, John...you...oh..." she moaned as he gently kissed her breasts, teasing. Tasting. Fingers sliding into her pants now. Sliding over her mound. Between her legs.

"Baby, baby...so sweet...I will be sure to fall asleep after sex, you know," he teased.

"So this is a medical necessity?" she asked, fingers in his hair.

He slid up to kiss her lips again, savoring. Reveling in her love, her growing passion. "Absolutely," he agreed.


	9. Chapter 9

Imitation9

Moira pulled at John's shirt. Tugging. Running her fingers under it, up his chest. Needing the feel of bare flesh, of skin, of coarse chest hair. He kept kissing her, fingers probing intimately to make her wet, to make her squirm. To make her ready to receive him, to take him into her. She whimpered, turned her head to the side. "Oh John...John...John..." She slid down under him, running her mouth on his waist. He groaned, rolled off her suddenly. "John?"

"Fuck..." he moaned. "Wait a sec, baby...oh..."

"Are you all right?" She sat, closing the shirt around her. "You should sleep, John, not have sex. You need to–"

"Have sex, then sleep. Moira..." He touched her thigh, tugged at the pajama bottoms. "Oh fuck..."

"John, are you all right?" She turned to him, concerned. Touched his thigh. Ran her fingers up, up, over. "Oh!" she exclaimed softly, encountering his very erect cock still trapped in the pajama pants. Thrusting upwards, stiff and hungry.

He smiled at her expression. "Yeah. Oh. As in oh John you are so hard, so big...fuck. Give me a second so I don't go full throttle...oh fuck this is really, really uncomfortable."

"Okay, sweetie." She kissed him. Ran her fingers along him. "Let me handle that big, long, hard ordnance of yours, colonel."

He groaned. "I'm not kidding, Moira. It's not going to go down very quickly unless I oh fuck fuck," he stammered as she took hold. Stroked up and down, fingers tugging at the material trapping him.

Moira kissed him as he jerked in her hands. She smiled. Flinging the covers off them she scooted onto her knees, sat. "I know what you want, John. What you need."

"You do?" he asked, voice husky. He licked his lips as his body tensed, straining. Tightening along every nerve as lust inflamed him. He stared at her.

Moira slowly opened her shirt. Slid if off to reveal her bare breasts to him. She stood. Turned away and demurely pulled down her pajama bottoms, leaning and wiggling her hips. John gulped, staring hard, trying to see her naked rear in the dark room. He could only see glimpses of her pale flesh, her curves in the dim light seeping in through the windows. She turned to him. Clambered over him. Kissed him. Pushed him to the side. She moved upon her knees, her back to him. Frowned as she parted her thighs, leaning out a little. "There's not much to hold onto here, sweetie...so don't knock me into the wall." She touched the broken headboard.

John smiled, realizing what she was offering. He left the bed, yanking off his pajamas. He moved onto his knees on the bed behind her. Ran his hands along her bare back, down to her rear to squeeze, squeeze. "Oh fuck... Moira. Moira, I love you, every inch of you, baby," he enthused. Touched her hips and pulled her out a little. "Hold on John junior," he warned into her ear, suddenly close, pressing his body to hers. Moira squirmed as his erection poked her rear. He kissed along her throat, suddenly entered her. Groaned with relief, arousal. "Fuck!"

"Ssh!" she warned, but whimpered, tensing, clenching hard on him as he thrust hard, deep. "John, oh John ssh, ssh!" she cautioned as he grunted loudly. Moira tried to hold onto the headboard as he rocked her. Hard, fast thrusts that almost made her fall but his hands grabbed her hips, steadying her. Keeping her from hitting the wall. "John!"

"Ssh!" he cautioned. Hands sliding up to fondle her breasts, caressing gently, teasing as his mouth ran along her throat. Nibbling. He groaned with each thrust as relief and pleasure built, built. He gently bit her shoulder, making her gasp. "How's that, baby?"

"Fine, sweetie, you, oh God, oh God..."she moaned as he yanked her out a little more, thrust harder still, faster. The pleasure, possession circling wildly as he plied her every fold. So big he almost struggled to completely be enfolded by her. "John! John, no, no double, no double,"she stammered as one hand slid down to her mound, to pry at the very top of her cleft. His mouth sloppily nuzzling her throat again. Hot breath skidding along her skin. Making her shiver.

"Are you sure, baby?" his voice growled in her ear. He began to rock her, gaining momentum, relief so close now. Tangible in every motion. His breath was ragged in her ear, voice hoarse. His mouth took her earlobe and sucked it. Nibbled.

Moira squealed, jerking, clenching so hard on John he almost bit her earlobe but caught himself, freeing it to groan loudly. To thrust up hard, deep, faster and faster as if he would shove her into the wall and through it. "John! Oh John, yes, yes! John...John...please, please oh God!" Moira's frantic voice was a rush of breathy emotion and moaning. Wordless passion overwhelming her.

"Which? Yes or no, baby?" he asked, grunting. Not waiting his fingers slid into her, rubbing roughly as his other hand gently squeezed her breast, her nipple as his breath came fast, hot on her bare skin. "Fuck! Oh fuck, baby, here we go! Hold onto me, Moira!"

Moira cried out, hands slipping, finding no purchase on the broken headboard. She arched, reaching back to grab his arms. Fingers digging into the strained muscles as he thrust her up, up, splaying her thighs wide. "John! John!" she exclaimed. "Oh John, John, John!" she cried as the climax slammed not once but twice. Shattering her voice, her words, her whimpers. Her nails dug into his arms as her body tensed, tensed, then melted into ripples of delight.

John groaned, his body wildly riding hers, riding her orgasms and matching them with his own now. He strained, shuddered, released with wild ejaculations inside her. "Fuck! Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!" he exclaimed, nearly driving her into the wall but catching himself. He slowed, slowed, easing himself out of her with excruciating pleasure, sliding along every inch of her to make her murmur, sob. Grab helplessly as her grip on his arms relaxed.

"John..." she whimpered, easing at last. Breathing heavily.

"Sweetest little fuck," he said hotly, kissing her shoulder. "Easy, baby, here." He gave her rear a squeeze. "Pert little ass," he explained hoarsely. "Sorry." He scooted back from her, collapsed onto the bed, onto his back. "Damn..I've had you nearly every which way today, baby...but this was the fucking best...every which way," he boasted. Wiped the sweat off his brow.

"Shut up! You fucking bastard!" She reclined beside him, trying to catch her breath. Hot. Sticky. Sweaty. Body thrumming with the possession, the sex. "You...no!"

He smiled, sliding over her, on top of her, careful to shift his weight off her abdomen. He kissed her. "Not yet, baby...not quite yet. I did warn you, didn't I? Pert little ass...all mine. Every single sweet little inch of you is mine."

"John!" she scolded, flustered. "Damn you! The things you do to me, the things you make me feel, the–"

"With you, baby, and you loved every minute of it," he retorted. "My melodrama princess. I'm spent. Fuck you drain me dry. It's a wonder my cock is still attached."

"Shut up! God I hate you!" She shoved. He laughed. Kissed her. Rolled off her. She clumsily buttoned her top. Grabbed her pants and slid them on. Scrambled under the covers. "Fuck you, John!"

"Again? Wow, Moira, can't you still feel me in every inch of that fucking sweet little pus–"

"John!" she exclaimed, hitting his arm. "Goodnight, colonel." She rolled onto her side away from him. Flustered. Furious. Pleasured.

He laughed again. Got up to pull on his pajamas, following her lead. "Why are you pissed, baby? It was your idea, after all. You shook that pert little ass like an invitation to a banquet. I accepted."

"You did far more than that," she grumbled.

He smiled. Got into bed next to her. "Yeah, I guess I did. But I can't help it. I could fuck that pert little ass all day long. Hell, I could have sex with you all day and night, Moy. You make me so fucking hard. And those sounds...they turn me on like nothing else. Well, except your sweet, sweet center...so fucking sweet my mouth waters and my–"

"Will you shut up?" she snapped.

He spooned against her. Kissed her cheek. "My Moira. I should be able to sleep now, but I will more than likely wake up with a hard-on. So you will–"

"Will you just shut up?" she snapped, elbowed him.

"I'm just saying, Moira...that's all. Revel in the pleasure like I do, baby. Repeatedly. Now go to sleep. Keep it in your pants, baby...at least until morning."

"Shut up," she grumbled. He gently laughed, settling comfortably.

* * *

Moira woke. Scooted out from under John who was sprawled on top of her. She got out of the bed, moved to the bathroom. She drank a glass of water. Stared at herself in the mirror. Lifted her shirt to see her abdomen. There was no visible baby bump yet. She dropped the shirt down, turned off the light. She moved to the window. Stared out at the falling rain. The dim city lights twinkling golden. The darkness of the roiling waters beneath them.

She pondered all of the work she needed to do. She pondered the baby that was inside her. She pondered John. The increasing intensity of the sex, the passion. The aggressiveness although she knew he would never hurt her, never would. She sighed, considering his nightmare.

John stirred, rolled. Reached. Woke abruptly, got out of the bed, her name on his lips but he saw her silhouetted at the window. City lights glimmering on the fall of her long brown hair. On the sabertooth cat pajamas he found amusing, adorable. On the fuzzy socks concealing her bare feet. So Moira. He silently padded over to her. Looked past her at the rainfall. "Couldn't sleep?"

She started, nearly jumping. "John! You startled me!" His arms slid around her as he stood close. He kissed her throat. "Did I wake you?"

"Yes. Well, the absence of you next to me. Beneath me. Moira, are you that upset over the sex?" he inquired quietly.

"No. Yes. No." She caught his hands at her waist. Felt his solid, strong body behind hers. His warmth. "John...do you love me?" Before he could reply she added, "I mean, apart from the sex and all. I mean you put up with a lot. My melodrama, as you call it...my science...my...my emotional adjustments to this pregnancy and all...I...do you love me?"

He frowned in puzzlement. "Yes. Isn't it obvious, Moy? Even apart from the incredible sex, yes."

"I'm serious, John," she remonstrated.

"So am I, Moira. Why would you ask me that? I love all of you. Even your melodrama. Your science. Your emotion over carrying my child. But do you know what I love most of all?"

She sighed. "Gee, let me guess. The sex? My pert little ass?"

He smiled. Kissed her throat. "Yeah. But apart from that. Apart from the fact that you love me, every part of me. Accept me. I even love the darkness in you, Moy. Because it connects us in a way I've never been connected to anyone before. We can understand each other on every level, Moy, even the worst. Do you have any idea how rare that is? To have found each other? So yes, I love you. Even apart from the sex...but even the sex is connecting us in such passionate pleasure, so fucking intimately that it just makes our love stronger."

"Wow." She leaned back against him. "Wow, John. Why can't you talk more like that?"

He sighed. "I can't. Not all of the time. Better now, sweetheart?"

"Yes. I love you, John." He kissed her cheek. "John." She smiled, caressing his hands at her waist. "I'm going to have your baby. Did you ever think that would happen?"

He smiled. "Eventually, yes, Moira. You can't be that surprised. We do have quite a lot of delicious, exuberant sex."

She laughed. "No. I mean yes, but no, you know what I mean." She turned to him. Kissed him. Hands sliding up his chest. "Um, John...about the, the sex. Um...you need to um, um, dial it down."

"Oh." He considered. "Frequency?"

"No. Intensity."

"Oh." He smiled. "All right, sweetheart. But I'm not doing it for me, or even for you. I'm doing it for John junior."

"What?"

He grinned at her confused expression. Led her back to the bed. "Turbulence." At her continued stare he added, "he needs to get accustomed to turbulence. He's going to be a fighter pilot like me."

She smiled. "Oh? Really, colonel?" she asked as they got back into bed. "I don't think so. One flyboy is enough, more than enough! He's going to be a paleozoologist like me."

"God, no!" he teased, reclining. He held her close. "One paleozoologist in the family is enough. More than enough! The next kid can be a scientist. This one is pure Air Force."

"Whoa there, flyboy, the next one? Shouldn't I have this one first?"

He laughed. "Of course, Moy. Contingency plans. The next one can be a scientist. Okay? Little...let me see...Shamus Sheppard can be a–"

She laughed. "Wow, colonel, you do have contingency plans, don't you? Another son? Named after my uncle?"

"Of course, Moy." He kissed her. "And then the next can be–"

She laughed again. "Slow down, colonel! We're not having an army!"

"No, of course not. A proper squadron, baby." He laughed. "All right, I'll slow down. On all fronts."

"Thank you." She kissed him. "Colonel Contingency."

"You're welcome, Doctor Complacency. Go to sleep."

"John! I would if you would stop talking," she teased.

"Hilarious, Moira." He swatted her rear. "I still need to discipline you."


	10. Chapter 10

Imitation10

Moira woke. Sprawled alone in the blankets. She yawned, sat. "John?" She heard the water running in his bathroom. Smiled. Smirked. She slipped out of the bed, shoved her messy hair behind her and moved into his room. Into his bathroom. It was steamy, warm. She smiled, staring at the foggy silhouette of his naked body as he showered. Imagined him dripping wet, skin, muscles, hair all sloppily drenched, suds sliding along him. A rippling desire made her step closer, closer. She could smell the soap, the shampoo. "John Sheppard!"

"Shit!" he exclaimed, startled. The soap flew from his hands to fly across the stall. Hit the tiles and then the floor. Hearing her laughter he grinned, but adopted a stern expression, pulled back the curtain to peer at her. "Moira! Stop doing that!" He ducked back, smiled at her admiring stare.

Moira smiled, licked her lips. He had been drenched. Covered in suds which rolled along his naked body. Sparkled in his chest hair. The hair on his arms, his legs. The hair between his legs. Water dripping along his jaw. His hair flat, plastered to his head. "Shit," she whispered. Quickly she stripped off her pajamas, her socks. She opened the curtain. John was leaning over to retrieve the soap, giving her a very generous view of his backside. She stepped into the shower. Smacked his rear. "Damn, John, that is one fine, fine ass!"

"Hey!" he protested, straightening. He laughed as she laughed. "Moira! That is clearly sexual harassment!"

"Oh? Sorry, colonel." She ran her hands up his back. "Soap?" He handed it to her, groaned as she soaped his back. Rubbed hard. "Hmm...colonel...look at all these scratches...my oh my. However did you get those, sweetie?"

He laughed. "I bedded a wildcat, that's how. Ow!" he protested as she smacked his rear again.

"Hilarious, John!" She laughed. "You know, colonel, women would kill to be where I am right now. I could sell tickets and make quite a profit."

"Hilarious, Moira." He sighed happily as her hands ran up and down his back. "You better behave, baby, unless you want me to deploy."

She scooted down, hands running up his thighs now. She slipped between his legs, moved up onto her knees in front of him. Licked the water at his waist, his hips.

"Oh fuck! Moira? Moira...oh fuck, baby," he said low, aroused by her touches, her kisses. Her tongue. The water pounded his back. The sight of her drenched in water, hair straggling on her bare skin, bare breasts made him moan softly. His fingers caught her wet hair, her shoulders as she kissed along his pelvis. Hands running up his cock now, catching, stroking him.

"Oh colonel, I'd better make damn sure this ordnance is squeaky clean. It may take a while as big, as long, as hard as it is," she teased. Grasping and squeezing as he reacted quickly.

John groaned, nearly lost his footing as she was bringing him fast, so fast, the arousal painful now. Straining. "Fuck oh fuck!" he exclaimed, deeper voice reverberating off the tiles. "Moira, I thought you...wanted to...lower the..the intensity..." Each word was a struggle in coherency as her nails ran up and down the hard length of him. Stroked between his legs while her mouth teased along his hip, his pelvis.

She glanced up at him, eyes bright. Smile sensual. Voice sultry as water pooled along her breasts, between her legs. "You need to lower yours, sweetie. I never said I'd lower mine." She laughed softly, causing a shiver to course along his skin. "Lower, John? Do you want me to go lower? Lower..." She ran her mouth along his cock.

John gasped in ecstatic sexual pleasure. His hands pressed flatly to the walls for support as his body shook in anticipation, in need. "Damn it, Moira! Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!"

"Ssh, sweetie," she warned, caressing. "My John. My John and his hard, hard ordnance...so hard, so big...so fucking big," she teased, moaning. Sliding her thigh on his. He jerked, a spasm erupting as she took him into her mouth. Sucking, sliding, teasing the sensitive head until he thought he would pass out or die of sheer orgasmic bliss. Helplessly he thrust, jerked, groaning as the snugness enfolded him, the moistness enveloped him. She squeezed, and squeezed, then bit gently. So gently but then harder, running her teeth along him. His knees shook. His hands slid on the slick tiles. His breath came raggedly as grunts escaped him. Deep, masculine sounds that sent shivers along her body.

Moira slowly, slowly freed him, grabbed and slid wildly, wildly, stroking so quickly, so intently he came in a rush. An ejaculating spurt as the sharp pleasure rode him. She swerved out of the way, easing her strokes. She stood carefully, freeing him from her tight grasp. She ran her hand sup his chest. Kissed him. Kiss after kiss, her tongue plying his mouth as her body shoved up against his. Breasts sliding along his chest. Her crotch running along his depleted cock. She circled his ear, bit. Nibbled his throat. She pulled back at last. "You better rinse off, soldier," she said huskily. Stepped out of the shower and was gone.

John stared after her, speechless. Breathless. So sexually satisfied he could have wept. He stared through the curtain at her naked, wet body. Watched her rub the towel over her. Drop it to the floor and depart. He quickly rinsed off his body, his hair. Running his hands over himself, echoing her strokes, her mouth. Saw the faint bite marks on his cock that were quickly fading. "Oh fuck...fuck..." he muttered, enthralled. Puzzled. He turned off the water. Stepped out and quickly grabbed the towel from the floor, drying himself. He wrapped it around his waist, stepped into his room. "Moira?" He swallowed, voice raspy. He moved to her room. "Moy?"

Moira emerged from the bathroom. Damp hair caught in a ponytail. A long-sleeved gray t-shirt, gray pants clothed her. Shoes. She glanced at him, moving to the table to grab her data pad. "John." Her voice was mild, as if nothing extraordinary had just occurred.

"Moira? I...you...um...fuck...I..."

She smiled, moved to him. Eyes wandering over him as she touched his arm. She lightly kissed him. "You really should get dressed, sweetie. Although I do love the boy-toy towel look."

He tried not to smile. "Moira, what the–"

She kissed him again. A long, passionate kiss. Said into his ear, "it's called sex, colonel. Look it up. I thought you were the sex guy." Then she was gone.

He stared after her, confused. Enamored.

* * *

Moira strolled down the hallway. Flustered at her boldness, her lust for her husband. Amused at his expressions. His complete enjoyment, his pleasure. Her power over him at that moment. His surrender to her. She licked her lips at the memory.

"Moira, wait a sec!"

She turned, watched as Peter Harrison moved to catch her. "Peter? I was–"

"Please tell me you were going to join me in the lab. Where have you been these past days? I need you to collate the new classifications. Remember? Your pet project? Pachyderms? We need your input on this."

"I know, and I'd like nothing better but I can't right now, Peter. I'm sorry."

"Moira!" Rodney moved to her, glanced at the other scientist, dismissing him. "Finally! I need you in my lab now! I've assembled another device but you have to initiate the Ancient crystal interface I employed to line up the–"

"I can't right now, Rodney. I have to–"

"Moira, love, are you brining the data?" Carson joined them, eyed the other two men. "We need to arrange those tissue samples by type and then go over the scans once more before I return to the Alpha–"

"Yes, Carson, I am on my way and I have the–"

"No. Moira is in my department, Doctor Beckett, and I need her to actually work there for a change. I need her specific expertise now."

"No. I need her for the Ancient tech so I have priority, Doctor Harrison," Rodney noted with a shake of his head.

"No, I need her in the med lab for the scans of our first female Wraith subject, so that–"

"Enough!" she snapped as all three began to argue, fingers pointing at one another. Unaware that John was in the hallway, watching. Ready to intervene if necessary. She shrugged. "I can't be in three places at once, gentlemen! Peter, I am sorry. I won't be able to work with you in the lab. As much as I want to, and as much this is my dream project I won't be able to join you until this afternoon. The Wraith intel is top priority."

"Intel? You sound like a soldier, Moira, not a scientist. I know how much this project means to you, to us," the older man argued.

"Yes, and I will work on it ASAP. Sorry," she shrugged, "I guess I am picking up John's lingo. Rodney, I won't be able to help you for at least an hour."

"What? My research is always, always top priority, Moira! Ask John. Ancient tech is at the top of any list, believe me, as is my work."

"Yes, but you are the expert there, not me. Once I've initiated the device you won't need me. Not like Carson does. The protocols are very clear that Wraith intel trumps Ancient intel in the event of a test subject or specimen. Give me an hour and I will meet you in your lab."

"All right," he sulked. "Seems Carson is always your favorite."

She smiled. "Well, he does have that lovely Scottish accent, but no. John is my favorite and these are his protocols. Carson, let's go. I didn't mean to leave you in the lurch yesterday. It won't happen again." She paused. All three men were staring at her. Then looked past her at the same time. "What?" She turned to see John lazily lounging against the wall. Lean form encompassed by a black t-shirt, blue pants. The sexy double holster straps on his thigh. A smile on his handsome face. One hand at his hip. "John?" She glanced back at the men. Moved to him, suddenly bashful. "How, um, how do you feel?" she asked.

"How do I feel?" he inquired, raising a brow. A smirk appeared. "Fine." He raised his eyes past her. "You heard Doctor Sheppard. Get to work!" As they dispersed he met her gaze. "How do I feel?" he repeated. "Like I've been thoroughly and ruthlessly pleasured. Walk with me, Moy. I'm going to have to keep a closer eye on you, baby. All those men wanting you and all."

She smiled. "Hilarious, John. You have nothing to worry about, sweetie. It's just my mind they want...and my gene."

"Oh? Is that all?" he asked as they strolled along the hallway.

"Yes. They don't want to get into my jeans like you do."

He laughed. "Good to know, baby. But I don't think so. You are radiant and so ripe...fuck, you are so fucking beautiful they probably want to just stare at you and–"

"John! Shut up! Don't try to sweet talk me," she refused his compliments.

"Me? It's the truth, Moira. Hey," he caught her arm before she could escape. "Keep to our schedule, Moy. I don't want those scientists to wear you out. Or John junior."

"Our schedule?" she asked, amused. "You mean my schedule, colonel."

"Yeah, that's what I said. Our schedule. Mine now, sweetheart. I'll meet you in ours at eleven for our nap. Then lunch. Then Sheppard's delight."

She laughed. "I don't think so, sweetie. I have too much work to–"

He caught her, kissed her suddenly. Pushing her gently against a wall. "But I am your favorite, baby. You said so yourself. Eleven hundred. Ours. We need to talk about my cock."

"Your...what? Huh?"

He kissed her again. "You heard. See you at eleven." He freed her. Sauntered up the hallway. "Eyes off my ass, Moira!" he called over his shoulder.

She laughed. "That's your fine, fine ass, John!" She blushed as a woman paused, glancing at her, then at John as he disappeared around the corner. "What?" she asked as the woman met her gaze again. "It is. A fine, fine...I've got work to do."


	11. Chapter 11

Imitation11

John paced. Paced. Checked his watch. Glanced at the clock. Crossed the threshold to his room. Crossed back into theirs. Scowled. Strode out of his quarters and to the infirmary. He glanced round. "Carson!" he snapped, startling the doctor. "Where–"

"With Rodney, I imagine," Carson answered before John could finish his question. "When are we going to the Alpha site?"

"After lunch. Well..." A smile came and went quickly. "About half an hour after lunch." He turned to go. Turned again. Debated. Lingering. Wandered aimlessly but towards Carson who was hunched over a data pad, typing swiftly. He ran his hand along the table. Nearly upended a flask but righted it. Tapped his foot. Glanced round the empty room. Stood. Waiting.

Carson sighed. Trying to ignore the other man but unable. "Yes? John, what is it before you break something?"

"I...um...had a question," John admitted. Shrugged.

"All right." Carson waited, but John was looking around again. At anything else, anyone else but the doctor. "Colonel? Are you going to continue or shall we play twenty questions now?"

John frowned. "I...um...it's about Moira. John junior."

"And?"

John glanced at him, embarrassed. Uncomfortable. "I...is it possible...is there any way I could..."

"Yes?" Carson encouraged. Impatiently sighing. Amused.

"Is there any way I could, um, inadvertently, or accidently, without meaning to, of course, um, hurt either of them. More specifically John junior right now...and later, I guess...when I...we...when we, um, Moira and I...when we...you know..." His voice trailed off and he licked his lips, glancing at the floor. The table. Hands in his pockets, head lowered like a naughty schoolboy.

Carson took a moment to process the question. Realized. Smiled. "No."

John's gaze shot up to him, but Carson had returned his attention to his work. "No? You're sure? I mean...even if we...um...look, doc, even if we really, really get going and go...um..."

"No. The only way you could harm the child or the mother is if you kicked her or punched her in the abdomen. I trust you're not planning to do either?"

"What? No! No, for God's sake, Carson, of course not!" John exclaimed.

"Good. Then no. You won't harm either of them."

"I...oh. Even, I mean...even when we go at it really, um, really...enthusiastically?" John asked, searching for the right word.

Carson was trying not to laugh. "Yes, colonel. Even then, John. Let me put it this way, John, so you can understand. John junior is secure and safe. Strapped in securely. The perimeter is locked down. There'll be no breaking into his sanctuary, no matter how your forces are engaged, how many, how often, how enthusiastically. All right? Now can I get back to work?"

"Uh...yeah. Yes. Thank you, Carson." Somewhat relieved he headed for the physics lab.

Carson released the laugh he had been holding, shaking his head.

* * *

Moira sighed. Freed the strange attachment to the equally strange device. "Sorry, Rodney. It won't work, not even with my superpowers."

"It has to work! I mean, I fixed it. All the pieces fit together. Try again, Moira. Concentrate."

"I have been concentrating," she complained.

"Try harder!"

John walked into the lab, hearing Rodney's harsh tone. He frowned. Saw Moira holding an elongated device. Ancient crystals attached to a weird device. Her eyes were closed. Brow furrowed in tense concentration. Rodney was looking from her to the device to his console. "Moira Sheppard!"

Moira jumped. The device flared to life. Lights flashing. A humming filling the air. Her eyes flew open and she freed the equipment. It spun on the table. A screen flipped up and displayed numbers before fading into darkness. She jerked backwards, startled. "Shit! John, don't do that!" she scolded.

"Wow! Look at that! It's going off on some mathematical precision...oh, it was. It's reading the technical layout of Atlantis, scanning. Wow!" Rodney enthused. He powered it down. "Next time we will have John startle you instead of wasting half an hour!" They laughed.

John neared, not amused. "Moira, what the hell are you doing? Schedule!"

"What?" She met his gaze. "Oh! Sorry, John. We just got involved and I–"

"I still need her, John. Look at this data! It's–"

"Don't care. Moira, schedule!" John barked.

She sighed. "John, I'm fine. I'm busy here. I have to finish here and go finish up with Carson before he departs for the Alpha site, then help Peter. I'm not that tired so I can–"

"Now! Move that pert little ass, Moira!" he ordered. "Schedule!"

"John," she complained, trying not to laugh, "I am–"

"Now!" he ordered, swatting her rear.

"John!"

"Go!"

She laughed. "Yes, sir! Sorry, Rodney. Colonel's orders."

"I know, I know," Rodney sighed. "He's the favorite. Come back later, Moira."

John watched her leave. Turned back to Rodney. "So, what's that thing do again?"

"It appears to measure the technical readouts of each piece of operating equipment and gives a rate of the energy required versus the electrical output of our own–"

"So it's a meter reader. Next time you–"

"No! It's nothing like a simple meter reader! It's a far more sophisticated piece of technology that measures...okay, it is like a meter reader but operates on a much higher mathematical level. You know, it also measures the output of overbearing military commanders. No wonder it when off like that when you entered the lab."

"Ha ha. Keep working. Without Moira."

Moira was sitting on her bed, laptop balanced on her thighs. Busily typing as she studied the screen. She bit her lower lip as she worked when suddenly the pad was snatched from her hands. "John!"

He closed it. Placed it across the room on the table. "Schedule, damn it! Nap!"

She smiled at his imperious tone. His stern demeanor. "I'm not that tired, John, really. I need to finish that work. I have so much to do with so many men! I..." she paused, as he folded his arms across his chest. Adopted a stubborn stance. Immobile. Staring at her. She smirked. "Oh, fine! If it will make you happy!" She scooted up the bed. Reclined. "Happy?"

"Yes." He laid next to her, scooted close. Arm over her waist. He kissed her. "I don't want you wearing yourself out, or John junior. He's had enough science for one day."

"He can never had enough science," she retorted. Turned towards him. Touched his chest. "John, I'm fine. Seriously. I'm not that tired, not like I was. And I didn't throw up this morning, so maybe I'm over that as well. Stop fussing."

"No. It's our schedule, Moira," he stubbornly asserted.

"Colonel, it's mine, was mine, not yours. Although I do enjoy the company. But you probably need a nap more than I do, sweetie."

"True. After last night. This morning...you...what is it?"

"Huh? What's what?" she asked, puzzled.

He met her gaze, drew her close to kiss her. "What is it about my cock?"

"Um...could you be more specific, sweetie?"

"Twice now. Not that I'm complaining, not at all. The orgasms are so fucking intense...but it's like you would rather bring me that way instead of me being inside you."

She colored, snuggled against him. "Do we have to talk about this now? I thought you wanted me to sleep?"

"No. Yes, now. Well? Don't you want my cock inside you, Moy? Deep, deep inside you to bring you? I can bring you any way you like, you know."

"I know, John. Don't you want me to down on you? Hard?"

"Yes. God, yes...I do. But I want to give you the same intense pleasure. I want you to come, baby, hard or not. I want you to be as pleasured as I am. So? Don't you like my cock inside you anymore?"

She smirked. "John! Do we have to talk about–"

"Yes. Answer me. I, um, I sort of asked Carson. And he said you'd be fine. John junior would be fine no matter how much or how often or how exuberantly we had sex."

"You asked Carson?" she repeated, embarrassed.

"Well, yes...he's a doctor, you know. And I...not in so many words but I...if you were worried about it, I mean. There's no need, he said. To worry about that. I was wondering, since you seemed to want me to lower the intensity...but then you pleasured me beyond anything you have ever done and I–"

"No. I know you won't hurt me or John junior. It's not that. And yes, I do want your cock inside me. Deep, deep inside me to come, to feel you come, to feel every long and hard inch of you come inside me and bring me to those multiple orgasms."

He felt himself reacting. Smiled. "Ah. So...what then?"

She was silent. Closed her eyes, snuggling against him. "Take a nap, John."

"No. Tell me. I want to know. I need to know. My cock really, really needs to know. Is it the intensity? I can lower that, baby, don't you worry. I can lower the sexual exuberance and still bring you, bring me into climax. Repeatedly. I can demonstrate if you like."

"I have no doubt of that, John," she laconically noted.

He kissed her. "Then what? Moira? Tell me!"

"Nap."

He sighed. "Moira...I'm going to the Alpha site with Carson and a team...after we have reviewed the monitor, just in case. I'm just saying..."

She opened her eyes. Moved back a little to stare at him. His eyes were closed. Expression relaxing on his handsome face. Long lashes. Kissable lips. Shadows of stubble on his strong jaw. Sexy sideburns. Tousled hair. "Will you be staying there?"

"Not for long. Once I am satisfied it is still secure I will come back here. In time for Sheppard's delight, of course. Unless you don't want my cock inside you and I–"

"John! Stop talking about your cock! I want your cock, all right? Relax!" She lightly kissed him, snuggled. "Men," she muttered.

"My cock has serious abandonment issues, Moy," he said low, hand sliding down to her hip, "so you need to open those thighs and let me into that sweet, lush center. I want, no, I need to be in that wet, snug pussy, baby, all the fucking way to–"

"John!" She hit his chest. "Shut up, would you? Remember our schedule! God, are you never satisfied? First you want me to go down on you and now you don't? Make up your fucking mind!"

He pulled her against him, kissing her. "I want all of it, baby. All of you. After lunch. Sex. Sexual intercourse, Moira. I didn't need to look it up. Coitus. Full fucking coitus."

"Fine, John, now shut up!" She sighed.

"You know, Moira," he added, sulking, "most women, if not all women would gladly take my cock inside of them and thank me for it. On their knees."

Moira sat, irritated. "Damn it, John, stop obsessing! That cock is mine, colonel, and no one else is going to handle or deploy it, or I swear I will follow through on my threat and cut it off and hang it on the wall! Got it? You can deploy it later, in me, all right? Will that make you happy, John? Will it? Because otherwise no one will be happy unless Colonel John Sheppard is happy! Unless Colonel John Sheppard can deploy his fucking cock however he wants! Well?"

John smirked, eyes still closed. "Geez, Moira, all I want is to have sex with you. In you. Deep. Calm down, doctor."

She glared at him, hearing his amusement. His smugness. She hit his arm. "You think this is funny, do you? Son of a bitch!"

He laughed, pulled her down onto him. "Nap, baby. Then lunch. Then...oh then..."


	12. Chapter 12

Imitation12

John stirred, rolled onto his back. Felt hands on his thigh. His crotch. Felt his pants being undone, unzipped. "Moira," he muttered, shifting. Feeling her hands glide into his pants. Into his shorts to caress. To grasp. He groaned happily. Felt hot breath on his skin as his cock was drawn out of his shorts. Hot breath on his face.

"Do you want me to suck you off, John?" Moira asked softly.

"Yes..." he muttered. Shifted.

"Do you want me to suck you off, John?" But the voice was guttural, sinister. Not Moira's. Wraith. John's eyes flew open to see a Wraith female on him, smiling. Sharp teeth glinting. Long nails grabbing his cock to rip the tender flesh.

John bolted upright, gasping. Looked at his crotch. His pants were closed, zipped.

"John? John, what's wrong?" Moira moved to him, sat close. Caught his hand as he tried to catch his breath. Heart hammering in his chest. "Sweetie? Did you have another nightmare?"

He stared at her. Relaxed. "Yeah...nightmare. Fuck." He ran a hand through his hair. Rubbed his eyes, his face. "Not the one with you. Just a weird...um...fuck." He dropped his hands to his lap. "Shit. What is wrong with me, Moira?"

"I don't know, John." She kissed him. Took his hands into hers. "You have a lot on your mind," she offered.

"You mean besides my cock?"

She smiled. "Yes."

"Or rather the rejection of my cock when it comes to entering you?"

"John! Focus! You haven't been sleeping well. I could be wrong here, sweetie, but it's the Alpha site, isn't it? I'm certain you don't like going there. After the last time. It must be preying in the back of your mind. The memories of that, that thing. What it did to one of your men. What it almost did to you. Along with everything else."

"Yeah, thanks for reminding me," he acerbically commented. Sighed. "It is certainly not my favorite destination after...what happened in those caves, Moy. We are the only two people who know the truth. About what almost happened to me."

"Yes, John, and no one else ever will," she soothed. Kissed him. Kissed him again. Soft, gentle motions of her mouth on his. She touched his thigh. "That might explain whatever you dreamed just now. The um, obsession over your ordnance. It's all right, John. Of course you are going to be reminded. Of course you are going to be upset. And you, being you, would deflect it instead of talking about it. Maybe that explains the other nightmare as well. Of the future."

"No. That one was different. This other...yeah...directly related to the, the caves." He suddenly got off the bed. "Let's go eat. I've got to wrangle Carson and Lorne's team. And Reynolds." he moved to the door. Turned. "Moira?"

She was staring at him. Assessing. "Okay, John."

* * *

Moira sat in the control room. Staring at the monitor. "Nothing. Every frame of footage shows a dead, unmoving Wraith. No heat signatures. No movement. No other life forms."

"I hear a but," John noted, standing behind her. He touched her shoulder. "Well?"

"But...the life forms." She frowned. "Rodney extended a scan to a few miles around the base. And there are no life signs recordings. None. Just like the planet where Evan found her. But there is life on Alpha, John, or rather there was. Insects. Birds. Small mammals. The scans would detect that, all of that, any of that."

"Are you sure? Maybe they're avoiding the site because of the corpse," John reasoned. "I know I would."

"No...that wouldn't be it. If anything the corpse would attract scavengers and insects." She considered. Glanced at him. "John, the Wraith female has a significant amount of Iratus bug DNA in her genetic helix, more so than any of the male specimens! Look!" She opened her laptop, displayed the genetic sequences for him. "Even more than you had when you were infected with the retro-virus and had to take the Iratus bug enzyme to–"

"Don't remind me." He touched his throat, grimacing. "I hate those things. Significance?"

"I...I don't know. Yet. But this absence of life form readings bothers me." She touched his arm. "John, don't go back there. At least not yet. Something's wrong...we need to have Rodney widen the scan first. Send a MALP through to gather additional data."

He met her serious expression. "All right, Moira. I would rather err on the side of caution." He moved to the comm. "Lorne, have the team stand down. We're sending in a MALP."

"What's this?" Carson joined them, medical kit in hand.

"McKay, I need you to outfit the MALP with additional scanning telemetry. Radius of...five hundred yards. Now." He moved back to Moira. "Could that thing be hibernating?"

"What? No! It's dead, colonel. Completely. Moira, what is going on?" Carson asked.

"Life signs. Or lack thereof," she explained.

"You're telling me you are halting the mission because none of your wee animals are around? Moira, this is an unprecedented opportunity! I shouldn't have to tell you that!"

"I know that, Carson. But there should be life signs and there are none. Like on that planet where they found her."

"Colonel, we can't ignore this opportunity to–"

"Doctor, I don't ignore Moira's misgivings. Rodney?"

Rodney followed the MALP to the 'Gate room. "I've got it set to maximum. If there's a butterfly it will detect it," he grumbled.

"Good. Dial it up, sargent," John ordered. "On my mark, send it through. Moira, keep an eye on sleeping ugly there." He pointed to the monitor, hand still on her shoulder. He watched the KAWOOSH of energy. The event horizon shimmered. "Mark." As the machine entered the wormhole he called, "Rodney! Get up here and monitor this thing! Moira, check the incoming scans. Carson, watch the corpse." John's gaze flicked from monitor to monitor.

Carson watched the vid link, staring at the Wraith corpse. Rodney slid into a chair, brought up a screen. "Receiving telemetry now."

Moira tapped her screen. "Input receiving...can you widen–"

"Of course! Hang on..." Rodney tapped the commands. "What am I looking for?"

"Nothing. Well, any kind of life signs," Moira clarified.

"What? Why am I wasting time here? Any third-grade technician could–"

"Do what she says, Rodney. Anything?" John asked, leaning close to her.

She frowned. "Nothing."

"Carson, was there anything toxic in your initial scans?"

"No, John. Nothing like that, I assure you. If I may say so I think we're all being a little too jumpy here. Understandably so. But we can't forfeit this scientific advancement just because we have a few jitters. It's your own protocols, colonel. Wraith intel is at the top of the list."

"Carson's right," Rodney agreed. "There wasn't much life on that planet to begin with. Maybe it fled when the corpse arrived. I know I would. You're losing valuable data every second that thing rots," he reminded.

John considered. "Moira?"

She sighed. "Still nothing. No life signs at all, and that just isn't right, John!" She bit her lower lip. "Rodney, can you scan for any EM pulses, subsonic or sonar beyond our sensory capabilities?"

"You mean like echolocation?" He snapped his fingers. "Hang on. I can calibrate."

"What are you thinking?" John asked.

"Maybe something is driving them away. Far away. Some kind of pulse or wave. Or pheromone. But we should still detect life signs. Unless...unless all life is dead. Or dormant. Or a signal is blocking the scans."

"Presumably emitting from the body," John realized.

"Possibly. Or from a device on the body."

"Not since it's dead, Moira," Carson argued. "And I saw no device on the body. It would have to be alive to even emit the tiniest bit of psychic energy or suggestion."

"Unless it is in a deep hibernation! Think about it, Carson!" she argued. "The additional Iratus bug DNA must mean something!"

"Aye, but we don't know what it means yet!"

"But it must mean something! We do know the females are more powerful. The Queens doubly so, if this is one. The scarcity of females must mean something, maybe because of their increased power, their control of the males and their control of the breeding of the species itself!"

"That's a lot of assumptions, Moira, based on very little evidence," Carson reminded.

"Look at the facts, Carson!" she argued. "From what we know so far, from what we've encountered this species is highly evolved. Continues to evolve into an amalgamation of human and Iratus bug into a completely combined new–"

"Not that again," he complained. "Moira, the two strands can be separated and therefore can–"

"No, Carson, they can't! They are too fully integrated and if you include the additional Iratus bug cells plus the homogenized enzyme which we know to be a potent and significant–"

"Doctors!" John finally intervened. "All I need to know is this. Is it safe enough to put boots on the ground and finish this mission? Moira?"

"No."

"Carson?"

"Yes."

"Rodney?"

"Huh? I have no idea! I can only tell you I'm receiving no life signs. No EM pulses or any waves of any kind. Oh wait! There's a faint...hang on. Increasing the radius...it's faint, so faint I can't tell you what it is and oh...it's gone. Maybe a glitch."

"Maybe it was that butterfly," Carson quipped.

"Maybe?" John asked.

Moira caught his arm. "John, please. Wait at least another hour. Something's wrong," she insisted as he met her gaze. Her fingers moving on his arm. Worried gaze locked with his.

"Half." He looked at the monitors. "Half an hour. Keep eyes on all systems. Lorne, reassemble in thirty. We'll have Reynolds and his team join us."

"Really, John, I hardly think two teams are–" Carson protested.

"I do," John stated.

"I have to agree with Carson on this one," Rodney noted. "For all we know that brief fluctuation in the readings was a technical glitch, or a butterfly. The fact that there are no nearby life signs doesn't mean a thing!"

John frowned. "Do I need to remind you this body could be that of a Wraith queen? Who really knows what they can do? And the last time we had a creature on the Alpha site it cost me a man." He pushed the horrid memories aside. "I'm not taking any chances. Keep monitoring your equipment." He looked at Moira. "All right?"

She frowned. "I still don't like it." She returned her gaze to the screen. John's fingers caressed her shoulders.

"We'll be careful, Moira, as always," he assured quietly. He leaned close, whispered in her ear, "I will be careful, don't you worry, sweetheart. Nothing will keep me from you. From Sheppard's delight."

Moira smiled, touched his hand on her shoulder. "John."

John smiled, brushed his lips across her cheek. Straightened. "Dial it up! We'll send the MALP father afield. Rodney, extend those sensors."


	13. Chapter 13

Imitation13

Moira worriedly sighed. Watched the 'Gate room. Marines in TAC vests, grasping P90s stood waiting. Expressions serious. Speculative. Evan and his team with them. Carson holding his kit, impatient to leave. She looked back at the monitor. Saw nothing to cause alarm. Nothing out of place.

"Dial it up," John ordered. He walked over to her. "Once we're there you'll be set up on this vid link. To assist Carson. And here." He moved her hair back from her ear, slipped on an earpiece. "Channel one, directly to me and only me. If you see anything hinky, tell me. And no comments about my ordnance," he teased, voice low.

She smiled, despite her worry. Turned to him. "All right, John. Be careful. It still doesn't feel right. There should be–"

He kissed her. His lips on hers, tasting. Teasing. "I know. Don't you worry, honey." He straightened. Suddenly the colonel again. "Let's move out! Rodney, keep scanning on all frequencies. Moira, you've got our six." He strode to the 'Gate room.

Moira watched them enter the wormhole. John in the lead. She glanced over suddenly to see Ronon standing nearby. "Ronon? You should go with them."

"No. I'm supposed to stay here."

"Supposed to stay..." She paused, recalling John's words. Men to defend her. Who would kill to defend her. When he wasn't available. "Oh." Deciding not to say anything she turned back to her screen, waiting.

* * *

John stepped onto the rocky terrain. A cold wind was blowing. Leaves littered the landscape. "Reynolds, flank our perimeter. Lorne, with me. Carson, let's go. The sooner we are done here the better." They moved quietly towards the base camp.

"There's no life here, sir. Just like the planet where we found it," Aaron commented. He nervously adjusted his hold on his weapon.

"That was Moira's concern too," John agreed. "Keep sharp, lieutenant. Flank the base camp. Lorne, with me. Carson, wait!" John rushed ahead of the doctor, entered the shelter. Gun poised. He eyed the covered body. The empty room. The silence was eerie. Dismal. The only sound being the wailing wind. "Okay, Carson. Activate the link. We need Moira's eyes on this. Lorne." He gestured towards the body. Advanced slowly. Studying the outline of the corpse under the tarp. It was still in place. It appeared completely undisturbed. Completely dead. John slowly lowered his gun. Tapped his radio. "Reynolds, copy? Report."

"Nothing, sir," Jason replied, standing on a ridge. "Quiet as the grave. Not even a bug. No life sings on the bio scanner except for us."

"Keep sharp." He looked over as Carson opened the vid link.

"Moira, are you reading me?" Carson asked, as the screen came to life.

"Yes, Carson, and seeing you now. Is–"

"Dead. I'll position you better." He turned the screen to a direct view of the gurney where the body reclined. Still covered. Evan stood to one side of it, uneasily eying the corpse. John turned to the monitor.

He smiled. "Hey, Moira. Are you reading me?" He indicated the earpiece.

"Loud and clear, swee...oh...colonel." She smirked, glanced at Rodney who was oblivious.

John smiled at the blunder, took a step away from the body. "Lorne, check the perimeter. Make sure Josephes isn't jumping at shadows. Carson, make this quick."

"I'll try, John, but you can't rush science."

"I can."

Carson shook his head, moved in front of the monitor. Gave Moira a long-suffering look. "Military men," he sighed, making her smile. "All right, love, I will do a full body scan for comparison, then start the autopsy."

"Okay, Carson." She watched him move past John, run the scanner over the body. A green light enveloped it.

John appeared uncomfortable, shifting his stance. Cradling his gun. Glancing at Carson. Licking his lips. He stepped over to the monitor, smiled. "Hey, Moira."

"Hey, John," she smiled.

"So...what's a nice girl like you doing in a monitor like this?" He tilted his head, raised a brow.

She smiled. "Watching that fine, fine ass of yours, colonel.. Oh! Receiving scan!"

"Stop flirting with your wife, John. Let me know if anything's changed, Moira. John, I could use your help here."

"I was afraid you were going to say that." He sighed, gave Moira a pout. Moved to the gurney. He helped Carson uncover the body. Unstrap the limps.

"Don't block her view, John," Carson scolded. He wheeled over a tray full of cutting instruments. Blades. Scalpels.

"Scans are the same...exactly the same as..." She looked again. Stared. The body had changed position. Her heart skipped a beat. "Carson, did you move the body, just now? Or before?"

"No, love. I haven't touched it. It probably moved when we removed the tarp," Carson reasoned.

"No, it was after that. John?"

"No." He turned towards the body. "Looks the same to me, Moira. Exactly the same."

"It does? You don't see the arm hanging down off the gurney?" Moira tried to keep her voice calm, but a thread of panic was caught in her throat.

John looked at the gurney, exchanged a puzzled glance with Carson. He turned towards the monitor. Took a few steps towards it, rubbing his temple as a whisper of pain started. Stopped. "No, Moira. There's no arm hanging off the gurney. Is the feed working? Maybe you just see one of the straps," he reasoned.

Moira felt a chill. "The feed's fine. I'm telling you, it's not a strap! It's an arm...the..." She stared past him in mounting horror. "Oh my God...John, John! It's moving! You have to get out of there!"

John whirled, gun raised. But he saw only an unmoving corpse. Carson's puzzled shrug. "Um, Moira, it's not moving. It's still as the grave, er, dead...a corpse." He turned back to the monitor. "Are you all right, Moira?"

"John! It's moving! It's getting up! Oh my God, John! It's on its feet behind you! Get out of there! Carson, run! Go! John!" Moira shouted, rising panic and fear in her voice. In her body as she pointed at the screen.

"What the hell is..." Rodney headed for her.

"Moira, there is nothing there. It's on the table, I swear!" John insisted, glancing back behind him. The body lay there, inert. He turned back to her, saw her real fear.

Moira watched the Wraith advance, slow, staggering steps. Smiling broadly, flashing a row of wickedly sharp teeth. Arm outstretched. Hand raised to display a prominent sucker. "It's right behind you! John! Shoot! Shoot!"

"John, I see it too! It's alive!" Rodney exclaimed, standing next to Moira.

"John, shoot it now! Shoot!" Moira shouted.

John heard Moira's genuine fear, her panic. He whirled, fired his gun, seeing nothing in front of him. Carson yelped, ducked out of the way. "Moira? I can't see it! Where?"

"It's staggering back but still upright! By the gurney! John, get out of there!" she cried.

John fired his P90. Sprayed bullets along the gurney, the walls. Hitting something he couldn't see. But he could hear the thud of impact. "Carson, go! Dial the 'Gate! All teams fall back! Fall back to the 'Gate! This is–" A sound wave hit. John fell to his knees. The picture faded into blackness. Static. Flickered back on after a second.

"John! Ten o'clock!" Moira warned.

John swerved, fired. "Where?"

"Still standing! Move your ass, colonel!" she cried.

John had to smile. He leapt to his feet. "That's my fine, fine ass, baby!" He grabbed the vid link and ran out of the shelter. Whirled, holding it up. "Moira! Where?" The men were staring at him, puzzled. Thinking their commander had finally lost it.

"The shelter! The entrance!" she called. "Moving fast! John!"

"Twelve o'clock! Fire at will!" A barrage of bullets hit the ground, the shelter. Hit something unseen, unheard.

"Sir! I don't see anything!" Evan shouted.

"That's the problem, major! Trust me, it's there! Moira?"

"It's down! It's down but moving! Go!" She ordered, watching as the Wraith was writhing on the ground. Blood flowing from several wounds. But it was still alive.

"Go, go, go!" Rodney echoed.

"Fall back to the 'Gate!" John ordered.

"Incoming! Doctor Beckett's IDC!" a technician announced.

Rodney scrambled to the controls. "The way is clear! Come on!"

"Moira?" John asked, trying to run backwards, juggling the vid link screen in one hand, the gun in the other.

"It's oh shit! It's moving! It's running straight towards you, John! John!"

John fired as did the marines. "Go, go!" he ordered. But a wave hit. Knocking the men down like pins in a bowling alley. The vid link signal faded. Static filled the screen.

"John! John!" Moira shouted. "John, can you hear me?" She glanced at Rodney. "Can you–"

"Boosting the signal now, but whatever the hell that was it took out everything!"

John blinked. Moira's frantic voice in his ears. He stared. For a second he saw the towering form of a Wraith queen, resplendent in ugliness and gore advancing on him. Snarling mouth full of teeth. Hand outstretched. Sucker visible, pulsing engorged lips towards him. Then it was gone. "Oh crap." He sat, firing his weapon. "Go, go!" He leapt to his feet, began to run. Slowed to whirl as his men were firing all over the place. Falling and yelling. Making their haphazard way to the Stargate. He opened the vid link "Moira? Moira, copy? Where?"

"John!" Moira could have wept with relief as his voice filled her ear. As the screen filled with the sight of the rocky terrain. "I don't see it! Pan around!" He did so. The picture was jumbled, uneven. "John! Right behind you! Go, go!" she cried, when another wave hit. The screen went blank. "John!"

John fell again as the wave broke upon him. He lost hold of the vid link. It flew onto the rocks, smashing. "Shit!" He rolled, firing, prone on his stomach. "Moira! I've lost eyes!"

"Colonel! I'll cover you!" Evan laid down a hail of bullets, at nothing he could see.

John turned, ran towards the 'Gate. "Go! Go, all teams go! Carson, go!" Men ran into the event horizon from all directions, haphazardly scattered. Another wave broke over them but it was weaker, causing the men to stagger but they regained their footing. "Lorne, go!" John fired, fired, backing up slowly as Evan ran past him. He stepped into the event horizon.


	14. Chapter 14

Imitation14

"John! John!" Moira stood. Silence. Static. She stared at the shimmering wormhole. Gripped the back of her chair tightly.

Rodney moved next to her. "He's coming, Moira. He's coming. They all are."

The seconds stretched. Stretched. Carson ran through. Then the marines. Whirling and poised to shoot. A minute later Evan ran into the 'Gate room. Moira was holding her breath. Finally John emerged, backing up quickly.

"Close the Iris! Shut it down now!" he bellowed.

"Closing and shutting!" Rodney shouted. He flew to the controls as relief washed over him.

"John! John!" Moira was already running to the 'Gate room. Overwhelmed by relief, anger, fear.

"Did it get through?" John asked. "Does anyone see it? Rodney, check through the monitor to–"

A wave. The men staggered. The room seemed to shake for a moment. "Rodney!"

"Shutting it down!" The wormhole winked out of existence. He grabbed a monitor, scanned the room. "No! Nothing! There's nothing..." The screen flickered, came back. "Nothing." He breathed a sigh of relief.

"John! John!"

John whirled at her desperate tone. Moira ran to him, heedless of the men, of his hard TAC vest as she nearly slammed into him. Hugged him. "Moira, I'm fine, I'm fine, I–"

She pulled back, hit his arm. "How could you be so stupid! Why didn't you listen to me! I told you! I told you!" she accused angrily, tears in her brown eyes.

He sheepishly shrugged. "Sorry. I–"

She kissed him, long, hard, yanking his mouth to hers. The men grinned, watching. She pulled back from him. "I'll show you! Damn it, John!" She grabbed his hand, led him imperiously from the room.

John looked over his shoulder. "Stand down, for now. Stay here. All right, Moira, show me. I believe you are absolutely right," he soothed, following her. Carson joined them, shaking his head.

"I don't understand! How could it still be alive? How could it be invisible?" he moaned.

"Hibernation. Extreme. Psychic or energy wave patterns as yet undetectable," Rodney answered. "I saw it too, John. Moira's not crazy!"

"Never said she was," he replied. "She just saved our collective ass back there, when everyone else thought things were just peachy!" Anger threaded his voice.

Moira stepped to the monitor. Rewound the footage. "Watch," she tersely stated, still holding his hand as if afraid to let go. She stepped back from the machine.

John stepped behind her, setting down his gun. He slid his arm around her waist. Found himself watching a horror movie of which he was the unwitting star. Fascinated he watched himself as he laconically spoke to Moira. As Moira tried to warn him, her voice rising in panic, fear. He watched the Wraith queen rise like a vampire. Advance upon him. Right behind him. So close he should have sensed it, felt it, smelled its fetid breath. Saw it's hand rise. The sucker opening to drain him. Watched it fall back under the barrage of bullets. Stagger. Keep advancing.

He heard Moira's sharp intake of breath and his hand slid over her abdomen, an automatic reflex to protect her, the child inside her. He shut off the footage. "I've seen enough," he muttered. Felt a chill at how close he had been to death. To being drained of life right in front of his wife. He looked at Carson. "You said it was dead," he accused, voice low. Dangerous.

"I swear to God it was! I thought it was," Carson amended. Shocked.

"We have to go back," John decided.

"What?" Moira exclaimed. She whirled, caught his arm. "John, no!"

"We have to kill it. It's too powerful to be left alive. To be left to its own devices and to run free. Plus the Alpha site is now severely compromised."

"Surely it would have dialed the 'Gate and gone," Rodney reasoned nervously.

"No. So much for your scans and technical glitches!" He glared at Rodney, at Carson. "So much for your assertions it was well and truly dead! If not for Moira's misgivings, her observations, her warnings we'd all be dead!" He reigned in his anger, his blame. His guilt. "It's still there. It's found a new feeding ground. Or the 'Gate to one. It deliberately played dead for a reason and we need that reason." He scowled, thinking. Looked at Moira who was watching him worriedly. He gentled his voice. "I'll take a Jumper this time. Shouldn't be too difficult to pinpoint it on the scans and kill it. Lorne will come with me." He exchanged a look with Ronon. The Satedan nodded gravely.

"Rodney! One of the newly assembled alien devices is activated! We can't stop it! It's glowing and the energy is spiking!" Radek Zelenka ran into the control room.

"Go!" John ordered. Rodney ran after Radek who spun and led him out of the control room. "Moira, stay right here. Keep in contact." He looked at Ronon again. Nodded briskly.

"John? John, no, no, please! You can't!" Moira urged, clinging.

"I'll be back in ten." He looked at her, then was gone. Gently disengaging himself from her grasp. "Lorne, Jumper one! Clear the bay! Reynolds, stand down!" He sprinted to the Jumper bay, issuing orders.

"We should get these samples to–" Carson began.

"No, you stay here in case...in case..." Moira couldn't say it. "I'll take them. I need something to do." She grabbed the kit from the doctor's hands. Headed out of the room.

"Sheppard said to stay," Ronon reminded, following on her heels.

"I'll be right back. Aaron!" she called, seeing the younger man as he moved away from the group of dispersing marines. "Come with me, please. Tell me, was there any life at all on that planet? What did you observe?"

"There was," he replied, walking alongside her. Ronon followed, glancing round as they headed for the Wraith lab.

"But not now. There has to be reason," she surmised, walking quickly. Nervous. Worried. "What could cause the complete cessation of life forms?"

* * *

"What is it?" Radek asked for the third time, wringing his hands.

Rodney stared at the device. "It's detecting some kind of energy wave...but nothing that our scans can read. It's reading a massive energy output but its not us, not artificial, not a ZPM...whoa, whoa...it's a subsonic pulse wave!"

Alarms rang. Lights flickered. Doors began to automatically shut.

Radek exchanged a startled glance. "What the–"

"We're in lock down! The city has detected an internal threat! The...oh my God..." All of the color fled from Rodney's face. "There's a Wraith in the city!"

* * *

Alarms blared. Doors were closing. Moira whirled as Ronon pushed her towards the lab. As the doors automatically shut off the hallway. "What's happening? Why are we locked in?" she demanded. "Rodney? What...oh my God!" A wave hit, shattered suddenly. Moira staggered, stared as the form of Aaron flickered. Faded. Became that of a Wraith queen.

"Run, run!" Ronon shouted, jumping in front of Moira and drawing his gun. He fired.

* * *

John checked the HUD. "Damn it! No signs of life except us. That thing should be discernible by now!" He flew the ship into an arc, canvassing the land.

"Maybe it did go through the 'Gate, sir," Evan offered. "I'll narrow the range on the scans to...what's that?" He pointed. "A body. Three o'clock."

John slowed, lowered the ship. "With any luck it's that thing...or not..." he frowned. "It's reading human." He zoomed in closer. Stared in disbelief. "Son of a..."

"Josephes?" Evan stared at the body of the lieutenant. His head at an odd angle. Eyes glazed in terror, in death. "Sir? Josephes returned to Atlantis with us! I saw him!"

John knew. His heart hammered. "No. You didn't, major. It's in the city!" He swerved violently, flew swiftly towards the Stargate. "Son of a bitch! It's in the city! Dial the 'Gate!"

* * *

Rodney's hands flew on the keyboard. "I can't override it! It's automated!" He ran to the PA comm. "Attention! Atlantis personnel! We are in lock down! I repeat we are in lock down! There is a Wraith in the city! Maintain your posts! Marines, shoot to kill! Shoot to kill!" He ran back to the device. "This equipment must disrupt the pulse so it should be easy to spot!"

"If we could get out of here, yes," Radek agreed. "But we are locked in."

"Damn it!" Rodney fumed. "I've got to find a way to get us out of here!" He thought. "No! Wait! Maybe I can enlarge the wave disruption to encompass the city and reveal the Wraith!"

* * *

Ronon stared, stunned. He had fired point blank. The laser had shot clean through the Wraith's chest. Left a blazing hole. Which had quickly closed over, with only a single drop of blood that fell to the floor like a crimson tear. An arm lashed out. He was spun like a doll and thrown across the hallway into a wall. His gun flew from his hands. Skidded across the floor.

"Ronon!" Moira cried, lunging for the weapon, but the Wraith raised her hand. A wave hit. Weak, but enough to make Moira fall to her knees, wincing.

"No, Moira, run!" Ronon croaked. He staggered to his feet. Bellowed and charged at the Wraith. Slamming into it. Brutally cutting across its waist with his knife. But the Wraith grabbed his throat. Lifted him off his feet and squeezed, squeezed.

Moira grabbed the gun, fired. The Wraith staggered, dropped Ronon. He was gagging, choking. Moira staggered to her feet, backing up when suddenly the Wraith was there, lightning fast. Wrenching the gun from her hands. It flew behind her, onto the floor. A clawed hand slashed her face. Blood flew as Moira spun with the blow. She fell onto her hands and knees, protecting her abdomen from the impact. She coughed, spit, tasted blood as a cut bled from her lip, from her cheek. She sank down, dizzy with the impact.

"You! You are the poison carrier," the queen hissed. Guttural voice echoing off the walls. "The ones I received warning about from the others. The harvest...you were the harvest."

Moira crawled slowly towards the lab. Claws snatched her leg, pulling her back. She kicked out, fell onto her side. Arms folded over her abdomen. She looked up at the queen. Towering over her like a nightmare. Riddled with bullet holes, blood and gore. It flickered and suddenly it was Aaron, her former teammate. Pain laced her face, her body. "No! No!"

* * *

John had barely landed the ship when he flew out of it, Evan on his heels. Out of the bay and promptly into a door. He cursed, catching himself before he had slammed into it headfirst. "Damn it! Rodney! Rodney, open the doors!"

"John! I'm trying! City's on lock down! Protocols can't be overridden until the threat is eliminated! John, there's a Wraith in the city"!

"I know!" John shouted. "How can I eliminate it if I can't get...shit! Moira!" He tapped his earpiece. "Moira, copy!"

* * *

Moira jerked as John's voice shouted in her ear. "John! John!" she cried, moaned. "No!" she cried, as Aaron flickered. Became the Wraith again. The sucker descending towards her chest.

"Moira! Where are you?"

"Lab! The Wraith...John!" she cried, rolling. Crawling back on her hands and knees but the Wraith hauled her up to her feet. Began to choke her, fingers curling round her throat.

"Moira? The lab!"

"There's a back way, sir!" Evan reminded.

"That's right! She showed me! Come on!" The men took off at a run.

* * *

The queen set dropped her onto the floor. Moira gasped, coughing. The Wraith ran her hand over her. Pausing on her abdomen. "You...you have the harvest we seek..." Her gravely voice was full of delight. Seemed to vibrate. "You are breeding...you will give us this harvest."

"No!" Moira's eyes widened in terror. She reached, reached. Froze in sheer terror as the sucker elongated from the Wraith's hand. Attached itself to her abdomen as if to suck the embryo out of her. Moira grabbed the gun behind her. Swung it up and fired. The queen staggered backwards.

"Moira! Moira!" John was yelling. He fired on the control panel. The doors sluggishly opened and he shoved himself through them. Ignoring the deep scratch slicing his sleeve, his arm as he forced past the sharp edges. He ran down the hallway. Glanced at the body of Ronon. "Help him!" he ordered, jumping over his friend and running to the lab. "Moira!"

"John! John, John!" Moira's desperate scream was cut off as she crawled rapidly. A weakness clenching her abdomen, her stomach. The queen turned, distracted. Moira reached the Wraith lab. She hauled herself up and opened the door. The panel went from red to green. Chimed. She entered her code with shaky fingers. She fell into it. Locked it and staggered to her feet to peer out the small window. Tried to blink past the dizziness, darkness.

"Moira!" John raced into the lab. Took a second to locate Moira but he did not see her. Saw a trail of blood towards the inner Wraith lab. The queen standing at it. He fired, running towards the Wraith.

The queen snarled, turned. Lashed out with both hands. The gun flew from John's grasp to slam into the wall. John fell, rolled, pulled his sidearm and fired at the head, wincing at the pain assaulting him. He staggered to his feet.

"Sir!" Evan ran into the room, tossed him Ronon's sword. Fired his gun on the Wraith but a wave knocked him backwards, out of the room.

John whirled, caught the sword. Charged, heedless, letting the fury, the terror guide him. He thrust the weapon through the queen's middle, through flesh and bone and out of the back. The blade catching on the spine but snapping through it. "That has to kill you!" he snarled. He watched the body sag into the wall. The eyes blazing with hatred. Teeth locked in a grimace. He stepped back, yanking the weapon free. Swung it high, and sliced off the head with one tremendous blow. It fell, rolled. The body sagged to the floor, spurting wildly.

"Moira! Moira!" John dropped the sword. Slammed his hand on the panel. It went from red to green. Chimed. He punched in his code. The door opened. He stepped into the room. Froze.

Moira was curled on her side. Blood on her face, in her hair. Eyes closed. Still. So still that John's breath caught in his throat. "Moira?" he asked, voice small. Soft. He fell to her side. Checked her pulse. It was steady, but slow. So slow. "I need medical here now!" he shouted. Anguish in his voice. "Moira, Moira, I'm here now! Moira, come on, you're okay, you're okay," he insisted. "Wake up, sweetheart, please wake up..." He carefully gathered her to his arms. "Moy, please...please...don't leave me, don't leave me..."


End file.
